First Christmas
by JessicaBrennan
Summary: A/U-Tris Prior is running from someone when a certain blue eyed not so stranger helps her out.
1. Chapter 1

_**(A/N-Okay so I wanted to do a little Christmas project for the month of December, I'm currently about 3/4 the way through. It's why I haven't updated the other stories. But I will be doing some updating soon. Now back to this, some stories will have more of a Christmas theme, some more some not so much. Starting today I'll be updating one of these Christmas stories every day of the week. My first story is called First Christmas and I'm starting it today and ending it this Saturday. Next Sunday, will be a whole new story. Hope all that makes sense. Hope you enjoy! And please review if you can, I can't tell you how much I appreciate them.)**_

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*Tris POV*

She's pretty sure he's following her.

Ever get that feeling? Like bugs crawling on your neck, or a tiny needles pricking you from the back? The urge to turn around and face whatever it is? She's getting that right now, big time, and it's stressing her the hell out. Today of all days, she doesn't need to be stressed out. She glances down at her watch. Already five minutes late, and still two more blocks to walk in her new, nude pumps, which are pinching and scraping against her feet, by the way.

She's got an interview at the Eaton Headquarters. A big one. Her first "real" job.

Hopefully she'll be able to hold it together in this interview. She's really nervous, although she's been telling herself that she just needs to be herself, show them that she's qualified for this job, and not do anything too embarrassing. But actually, before doing any of those things . . . she needs to deal with her creepy, stalking ex.

She quickens her pace and glances over her shoulder. Casually. Like she's just checking the traffic or something. Yep, there he is. He's trying to play it stealthy, like he's in some movie or video game, but his attempts at blending in with the crowd are laughable. He sticks out like a sore thumb precisely because he's trying to do the opposite. Talking dark sunglasses, hat pulled down over his eyes, ducking behind trees . . .

God, Peter, give me a break.

Pete's her ex. Recent ex. And the breakup didn't go well—or rather, she should say, it didn't go well for him. She was the one who ended things between them, once she finally came to her senses and realized he was a humorless, cheating, controlling asshole. Yeah, she doesn't know why it took her so long, either. Eighteen months of her life lost to that man-child. Eighteen months she's never getting back.

How should she deal with him today?

She could completely ignore him, pretend like she didn't see him. Maybe that would be for the best, because attention is exactly what he wants from her. But what if he follows her into the job interview and creates a scene? Not even nepotism will make that better, and Peter's crazy enough to do it.

Or she could try and lose him in the heavy lunchtime crowd and the Christmas shoppers out. . . but there's no guarantee she'll be able to. Besides, that would mean taking a detour and she's already running late. No. The best thing to do is confront him, tell him exactly how much of a childish, weirdo asshole he's being, and hope he walks away . . .. or gets hit by a bus. That would be handy. She slows her pace a little and stops outside a coffee shop. She peers in through the window, like she's trying to see if someone she's looking for is in there.

All the while, she's keeping track of Peter's ghostly reflection on the glass. He's still slinking through the crowd, thinking she hasn't noticed him. He comes to a halt at a bus stop about fifteen yards from her, and that's when she decides to make her move. She steps away from the coffee shop and marches toward him, a frown of disapproval firmly fixed on her face. He panics at first, his eyes flying wide open. Then, he seems to come to the realization that he can't get away, and so plays at nonchalance, leaning against the bus stop post and pretending to check the timetable.

She stands right in front of him where he can't pretend not to see her, hands on hips. "Peter, what the hell are you doing?"

He makes a show of looking really surprised—a really poor attempt at a show, but she guesses he gets points for trying. "Tris? Wow, funny to run into you here. Small world, huh?" He looks her up and down and it makes her skin crawl. What the hell did she ever see in this creep?

"Really?" Tris asks. "I catch you red-handed, and you're going to pretend like you were here anyway, taking the bus at lunch time?"

He shrugs. "What's so suspicious about that?"

She pinches the bridge of her nose. Her head hurts. Taking a few deep breaths to calm herself down, she continues, "Peter, you would never be caught dead taking buses. 'The domain of bums and crackheads' is how I remember you describing them."

"Changed my mind." He shrugs again.

"Look, Peter, let's be honest with each other here, okay? I know you're following me. You damn well know you're following me." She follows his darting gaze until she successfully stares him right in the eye. "Can we not play stupid freaking games?"

He opens his mouth like he wants to carry on with his pathetic excuses, but she cut him off.

"Whatever you think you're doing, just stop." Tris holds up a hand. "It's over, Peter. It's never coming back. We're done. We're finished. Thanks and goodbye. Stop following me. Get a life."

She turns to walk away, but he grabs her arm. Hard. Probably hard enough to leave a bruise.

"Don't walk away from me, Tris," he hisses, leaning in close. "We're not done until I say we're done."

Fighting the urge to shrink away from him, she makes herself as big as possible (not easy when you're 5'2" on a good day) and get right up in his face. "Listen to me, Tris." Her voice sounds much steadier than she feels inside. They're in public so she can scream for help at any time, but after eighteen months of walking on eggshells around him, she has to constantly remind herself he holds no power over her unless she gives it to him. "Take your hand off my arm. Turn around, and walk away. I don't want to see you anymore. I don't want to talk to you. I don't want a damn thing to do with you. You get on with your life, and I'll get on with mine."

"No, I don't think I will," he sneers. "I want some answers. Why did you leave without saying anything to me? Why do you feel like you need to get a job? I always told you I would take care of you, and I meant that. Eighteen months of my life I gave to you, and I think I deserve an explanation!"

Peter's what some women of a certain age would call "traditional." She would use the term "chauvinistic asshole." His idea of the perfect relationship is one where the woman stays at home, raises the babies, and has dinner ready by six when hubby comes home from work.

And he doesn't like to take "no" for an answer.

"You do not deserve anything from me," Tris tells him. "I wanted to leave, and I did. Let's leave it at that before more feelings get hurt, yeah?"

His face twists into an ugly, angry mask. "No other guy can offer you what I have. You're making the biggest mistake of your life, and you're too fucking stupid to realize it."

That's it. That's enough. She doesn't have to stand here and have this ape paw at her.

She wrenches her arm from his in a sudden movement. "Get lost, Peter. And stop following me. If I see you again, my knee is going to end up buried in your crotch. Or I'll call the cops and tell them you're harassing me. You need to accept the fact that we're over, and move on with your life."

Before he has the chance to say anything else, she's striding away from him, feeling pretty good about herself. She spent too long not standing up for herself when it came to Peter, and it feels good to not take any more of his bullshit. She doesn't even look back to see if he got the message.

She's now about fifteen minutes late and starting to get scared that if it take her any longer, there won't be a job waiting for her at Eaton's. Even though her brother, Caleb, has arranged it for her and pretty much told her that she's guaranteed to get it, she doesn't want to make a bad impression.

To make matters even more complicated, the interview is with Four Eaton. The same Four Eaton who's her brother's friend. The same Four Eaton on whom she used to have the most embarrassing teen crush. And the same Four Eaton who has never even showed a hint of returning that interest. He was a few years older; she was an awkward, gangly teen. Well, it was awkward all around. Cringe-inducing, you could say, probably, if you were an observer of their interactions back then.

It was a weird time in her life . . .

Her parents had died, really suddenly, in a car crash. She was only fifteen years old at the time, and it was like her whole world came crashing down around her. Caleb was twenty, and he basically went from brother to parent overnight. She guessed she was looking for someone to latch onto, and Four was there. Tall, handsome (really freaking handsome), and kind of detached and aloof in that way that makes him seem intriguingly mysterious.

They never had a conversation about "us" because there was no "us." But he must've sensed her feelings because he distanced himself from her, letting her down gently and kindly. She had been devastated for a while. Her whole world was colorless. Once she went away to college a few years later, she sort of came to terms with the fact that she'd never see him again.

But she will, today.

She really wanted to impress him in the interview. So she's walking along—toward the Eaton building and away from Peter—feeling good, and then she accidentally bumps into someone. A guy, wearing what looks to be an expensive suit. He's holding a takeaway coffee and it splashes all over him.

A pristine, pressed white shirt, and now it's covered in a big dark stain.

She's mortified, but she doesn't have time to stop and apologize. "I'm so sorry," Tris says without breaking her stride. She just needs to get to this interview, get it done, and start this new chapter of her life.

*****************************PAGEBREAK**********************

Four POV

Are you fucking serious?

This is a new shirt, he's got a packed schedule, and now because some airhead can't watch where she's going, there's a huge brown stain on the damn thing. Goddamn it, he's got a huge meeting with the board today, a ton of paperwork to catch up on, and the interview with Caleb's little sister too.

That woman doesn't think she has time to stop and apologize? He's the one with a multi-million dollar deal on the line today. Just his luck to have a shitty start to one of the biggest days in his career. He stands there on the sidewalk, surrounded by the milling lunchtime crowd, and wipes at the coffee stain with a paper napkin he snatched from one of the busy food trucks nearby. Great. The stain is now smeared over an even larger area of his brand-new shirt. He's just making it worse, and there's no way at all he's getting it off.

Breathe, Four. Take a breath, and cool yourself down. It's just a shirt.

He pulls out his cell phone and checks the time. Shit. He's already twenty minutes late for the interview. Tris, his buddy Caleb's little sister, is probably sitting there outside the interview room, sweating buckets. He remembers her from years back when she was living with Caleb just after their parents died in that car crash. He used to go over there to hang out with Caleb, and she was this awkward kid, maybe fifteen or so, and she had the hugest crush on him.

Caleb used to rib him about it, but he felt kind of bad for her. She was way too young for him, of course, but she was definitely pretty in her own way. They never talked about it or anything, but he tried to let her down gently. He avoided spending time alone with her, and he said things like, "You're like the sister I never had," any chance he got.

And then she was gone, off to college.

Caleb and him have stayed friends even though he still lives in Seattle. Tris actually living here in Denver now, but he just learned about that from Caleb recently. Both him and Caleb have been so busy with work these days that he doesn't get the chance to hang out with him that much anymore. So it was a surprise when he texted him a while back after hearing he was looking for a new assistant.

Caleb promised him Tris was qualified and motivated. And to be honest, he doesn't have the time to vet candidates and all that shit. He just wants someone to help him out. So today's interview is mostly a formality, but he does still want to meet Tris to make sure their personalities don't clash and she's not a total flake. He pulls up her contact info and types out a quick text message.

Hi Tris, sorry I'm running late. I'll be there as soon as I can. Just take a seat in the lobby and I'll be with you ASAP.

Okay, now that's dealt with he can focus on replacing this shirt. Spotting a GAP, he ducks inside.

"Hello, sir. How can I help you?" One of the assistants approaches him with a big, customer-service grin.

"I need something to replace this. Your best quality shirt."

"Right away." The assistant nods, his grin widening, no doubt sensing potential for a big commission.

While he waits for the kid to come back with it, he takes a seat by the row of fitting rooms. He thought of this morning's text message from his friend Zeke, saying how Shawna had the perfect girl for him. Zeke and his wife were blissfully happy with their family, their little girl Chloe and Four knew they thought he should follow suit.

He knows their little family seems happy, and he's happy for them . . . but it's just not the life for him, even though Shawna was a nice enough girl. He just couldn't see himself settling down with a wife and a kid like Zeke is doing, even if his life has gotten a whole lot more stressful lately.

"This is the best we have, sir." The assistant's voice jars him back to the retail store, where a handful of lunchtime shoppers are browsing. He's holding up a blue shirt with great flourish, using both hands, no doubt trying to make it look as fancy as he can. "I think it'd look great on you. Would you like to try it on?"

He doesn't have the time. "Nah, that's okay. Here, give it to me, would you?"

Four takes the shirt, strips off his soiled one, and put on the new one, right there in plain view of the entire store. The kid's eyebrows rise for a second before he gets them under control. It's probably not the most civilized thing to do, just getting half-naked in public, but he doesn't really care. He's got bigger fish to fry today.

"Thanks, I'll take it," Four says to the slack-jawed sales assistant. He hands him a few bills. "Keep the change."

Striding back out onto the street, he glances at his watch again. Half an hour late now. Here's hoping Tris' the patient type. He hurries along the street—Eaton HQ is only a couple blocks away from here, and the walk shouldn't take too long, now that the lunchtime crowds are thinning out. Five minutes later, he's staring up at the huge, imposing skyscraper. He quickly walks into the lobby and sweeps the huge, expansive space with his gaze. When he spots Tris, his eyes stop.

Damn, what on earth happened to that awkward kid?

What a difference a few years can make. In his mind's eye, Tris was still going to be that kid with braces and zits who couldn't ever look him in the eye. But now? Well . . . it's a good job this shirt fits well, or he'd have to loosen his collar a little.

She's filled out . . . like, really filled out. Her lips are full and red, and her blond hair frames her face in a pleasing mess of curls, cascading down her back. Where there used to be skinny limbs, there are now beautiful, soft curves. And the swell of her breasts beneath her blouse . . . he's struggling to focus on anything else in his immediate vicinity. It takes him a few minutes to register that this is actually his friend's kid sister because she's changed such a lot. But yep, that's her.

Well, this could get interesting.

He's about to approach her, but then he stops and takes a moment to let his blood cool down a little.

He needs to keep a couple things in mind. Firstly, this is Caleb's little sister, and he's sure he's not going to want one of his oldest friends flirting with his baby sister. Secondly, after what happened at the end of his last relationship, he's pretty much sworn off any kind of commitment.

So it would be better for everyone involved if he casts aside any thoughts whatso ever of him and Tris in anything except a professional relationship. No flirting, no innuendo, no nothing. He takes a deep breath, pull himself up to his full height, and makes his way over to her.

She still hasn't noticed him yet, but she looks uncomfortable and on edge, her shoulders tense, and her big, doe eyes darting all over the place. To be expected, he guesses—who actually looks forward to a job interview, after all?

But he soon realizes that it's not the interview she's nervous about. That much becomes clear when he's around twenty feet away from her, right about to call her name and introduce himself. Before he can, a guy in dark sunglasses comes rushing over from the main entrance He grabs Tris by the arm. She pulls away from him, but despite her struggles to get away from him, he doesn't let go. He's got a deadly serious expression on his face, and Four can tell he means business.

Guess this interview isn't going to be the non-event he thought it was going to be.

***********PAGEBREAK*************

Tris POV

She glances over her shoulder a few more times as she makes her way to the interview, but she doesn't spot Peter. She even starts to relax a little by the time she arrives at the huge glass and chrome monstrosity that is the Eaton Headquarters building. Still, there's an interview to get through and she's a sweaty, nervous, anxious mess. It's just like Peter to show up at the worst possible moment to ruin her day. She's in a very familiar at this point with how inept Peter is at hiding, so it's encouraging that she hasn't seen him. Maybe he got the message, maybe he'll actually leave her alone and let her get on with her life.

When they were dating, he would hardly even let her leave the house. He's so controlling and neurotic that he demanded to know her whereabouts at all times. It's taking some adjustment to move on from him, to feel like she's actually free to go where she wants, when she wants, with whom she wants. She feels a quick pang of guilt, thinking about the guy whose coffee she spilled. He seemed good-looking, tall and broad, from the quick glance she'd had. And the shirt she ruined looked expensive as hell. Normally, she would've stopped and been all apologetic, offered to pay for the poor guy's shirt, probably try to awkwardly wipe it all off of him . . . but a combination of being late and Peter the creep being in close proximity meant she had no choice but to rush off.

All told, it hasn't been a good day so far.

She pulls out her pocket mirror to check herself. The curls she spent so long on this morning are all out of shape, there's a particularly unattractive sheen of sweat all over her face, and her clothes are all rumpled from rushing around in the midday heat.

Wonderful.

She's just starting to panic when her phone buzzes in her pocket. It's a text message—from Four, of all people.

Hi Tris, sorry I'm running late. I'll be there as soon as I can. Just take a seat in the lobby and I'll be with you ASAP.

Oh, thank God. She's never been more glad to hear that someone's going to be late.

Her day's starting to be better already.

Walking through the revolving glass door and into the Christmas decorated lobby, Tris winces from the pain in her feet. Now that the adrenaline has somewhat worn off and she knows Four's going to be late, she wishes she didn't run in her new, painful shoes. Inside the huge and opulent space, she gapes at the sculptures and prototypes of the various hi-tech gizmos that the company has created over the years. It's all very ostentatious.

She goes to the restroom to freshen up a bit. Telling herself that she's going to be fine that she's got this. Once done, she takes a seat on a couch in the lobby and waits. As she waits, she thinks about how much Four might have changed over the years. Caleb has told her how he's a big shot. He was one of the richest and successful men in the country.

And she's going to be working right under him.

If she gets this right, this job could be an insane opportunity. All she needs to do is not put her foot in her mouth during the interview. Unfortunately, she has this habit of talking too much when she get nervous. She's so into thinking too much that she doesn't even notice him coming until it's too late.

Suddenly, there's a hand clamped on her arm. Peter yanks her up to her feet, getting way too close.

"You think you can just run away from me like that?" he asks in a threatening tone. "I don't think so, Tris. We're not done until I say we're done."

Tris' heart sinks. Just as she thought her day was getting better.

"Peter, seriously, get freaking lost. How did you even find me?" She put on her fiercest voice, glancing at the security guard standing by the revolving door—who, unfortunately, has his gaze riveted on a cute girl's butt.

Peter sneers at her. "Guess I'm more resourceful than you give me credit for, huh? You can't just go sneaking around behind my back. Who are you here to see?"

She tries to wrench her arm free from his grasp, but he doesn't budge. "Get the hell off me," she growls even as she grimaces in pain. "Or I'm going to make good on my promise from before."

He doesn't seem fazed. He's got a wild, look in his eyes. Little, icy tendrils of fear run down her spine.

"I always knew you were a cheating whore," he hisses, spittle flecking his lips. "Who are you here to see? Your new man?"

"I'm here for a job interview, you creep. Get off me and leave me alone."

"A job interview? Who did you sleep with to get that?" He laughs in her face.

"I suggest you take your hands off of her. Now," says a deep, commanding voice.

Tris whirls around, but it's not the security guard she sees. A guy, tall and muscular, stands there with his arms crossed, fixing Peter with a stare that could melt a glacier. As Peter lets go of her arm, she winces and clutches it. That's going to leave a bruise, asshole.

"And just who the hell might you be?" her ex spits, his face upturned to glare at the new guy who stands a head taller than him.

Her hot-as-sin savior walks over to stand next to her, and she almost jumps out of her skin when he puts one of those biceps protectively around her shoulders. Peter's eyes almost pop out of his skull.

"She's with me now," says Mr. Tall and Handsome. "Right, Tris, sweetheart?"

She turns to look up at him. He smells good, and the proximity of his hard body is making her forget how to form words, but she tries her best. "That's, uh . . . that's right."

"So," the guy says, his voice rumbling ominously, "I think you'd better leave."

Peter looks apoplectic with rage. His face is turning a strange shade of purple and the veins of his neck are pulsing.

"Bullshit!" Peter practically shouts. "Do the two of you even know each other?"

Seeing as Peter has been tailing her for weeks, he's probably seen her going everywhere on her own. Her mind is blank as she tries to come up with something.

Luckily, Mr. Tall and Handsome saves her from having to lie.

"Of course we do. Tris was telling me this morning when we woke up—" he pauses to throw her the sexiest, panty-melting smile, dimples included "—that the loser she used to date might come and try to screw up her interview, so I decided to come along with her just in case." He gestures at the exit dismissively, then levels his sharp gaze at Peter. In a calm-but-deadly voice, he says, "So leave. Now."

Peter takes a menacing step forwards, which is almost funny because he looks like a few matchsticks held together with glue in comparison to the chiseled physique of her mystery protector. As it happens, though, there's no showdown because a couple of burly security guards—including the one she saw standing by the revolving door—show up out of nowhere and grab Peter under the shoulders.

"Get him out of here," rumbles the voice at her side.

She watches, jaw hanging open, as Peter is dragged, kicking and screaming, out onto the street. He continues to cause a scene once outside, but the security guards stand impassively at the doors, arms crossed, until he eventually leaves, throwing out a few more curse words as he shuffles off impotently down the street.

"So . . . he seems like a nice guy," says Mr. Tall and Handsome with a killer smile on his gorgeous face. "Anyway, now that that's dealt with, shall we get on with your interview?"

Tris turns to face him, her jaw dropping open even wider. "F-Four?"

***********************PAGEBREAK*************

Four POV

"F-Four?" Tris asks, his name sliding deliciously through her full lips in a way that makes him wonder what it'd feel like to kiss her.

"The very same." he takes a little bow and shoot Tris a grin.

She looks pale and a little panicked. Not surprising, considering the way that weirdo was grabbing her arm and getting right up in her face. He's seen enough creeps like that in his time to know that they don't have any issue getting physical when it's against someone who can't fight back.

"Sorry for putting you on the spot there with my little white lie, but I figured you could use some help dealing with that . . . guy."

"No, no, it's fine; it's . . . well, thanks," she stutters as she plops her beautiful ass down on the couch, her legs a little shaky. "He followed me the whole way here. I confronted him and figured I'd gotten him to back off earlier, but I guess he's more desperate than I realized."

"Are you okay?" he asks, concerned now. "Did he hurt you?"

She looks up at him with beautiful, grey eyes. "I'm fine. Thanks, Four. I'm just a little shaken up."

Four resists the urge to reach down and pull her into a protective hug. She looks so vulnerable; he just wants to tell her everything is going to be okay. He almost does. The urge is so strong, but then he reminds himself of what he thought when he first saw her.

Stay professional. She's your employee now, nothing more.

"Are you sure? We have a medic on site. Shall I call her down to take a look at you?" he asks.

"No, Four. Really, I'm fine." As if trying to convince him, Tris gets up to her feet. He's got to say she's already looking better, like she's making an effort to shake it all off. "I just figured the worst thing that could happen today would be me flunking my interview—not watching my crazy ex get dragged, kicking and screaming, out of the lobby. But now that has happened, I figure things can't get much worse, right?"

Her ex, huh? He thought as much, but it's nice to hear a confirmation. That means they've probably just broken up. That means she's single. Despite his resolve to stay professional, he can't help the spark of hope flickering in his chest. Stop it, idiot.

"So . . . yeah, let's go get this interview done. I'm not even nervous now. Isn't that weird?" Tris laughs then looks embarrassed, her smooth, soft cheeks turning a rosy shade.

Adorable.

"Sorry," she says, looking up and giving him a little smile. "I, uh, have a habit of talking too much when I'm nervous. Just tell me to shut up if it's bothering you, okay?"

He opens his mouth to tell her she's doing okay; she's doing perfectly fine.

"Should I even be saying all this to you?" she asks before he gets a chance to say anything. A look of concern crosses her beautiful face. "I'm supposed to be impressing you and making you think I'm actually going to be good at this job. Because I am—going to be good at the job. Not just . . ." she trails off, bright patches of red rising to her cheeks.

It's the cutest fucking thing he's ever seen, and he's struggling to control his hands from reaching up and feeling the heat in her face. But that would be the opposite of professional. He should say something, right? But it's so fun watching her go on like this. He suppresses the smile that wants to spread across his face.

Tris takes a deep breath, closes her eyes for a few moments, and then opens them again. "Let's start again; shall we? Hi, Four. Nice to see you again after all this time!"

With a bemused smile, he shakes her proffered hand. "Hi, Tris. If you'll come this way, we can get this interview underway."

She returns his smile, her eyes so bright they almost seem like they're glowing. He swears his heart pauses for a split second. It feels like she's peering straight into his soul. Unable to take any more of that intensely beautiful gaze, he turns away from her, leading the way toward the elevators as she follows quietly along. It doesn't look like Tris has realized he was the guy she spilled coffee on, but at this point, he's not even mad about it anymore.

"I almost didn't recognize you," Tris says in the elevator as it climbs all the way to the top of the tall skyscraper. "But I guess we can all change quite a lot over the course of a few years, huh?"

You can say that again.

"We sure can," Four says, casting a glance at her. "It took me a few moments to recognize you, too. I still remember the days when you were just an awkward kid, tagging along while I was hanging out with Caleb."

"Oh my God," she groans. "Don't. I've been cringing about that internally all morning. I used to follow you two around like a little, lost puppy. Remember that time when you two were drinking beer, and I snuck one?"

Four laughs at the memory. "How could I forget?We came up to your bedroom and found you in a heap on the floor, barely talking sense. After one beer!"

She blushes again, shyly looking down. As she does, the way her blouse moves gives him a glimpse of a lacy black bra and a hint of the creamy white skin of her breasts. At the stirring in his pants, he takes a breath and averts his eyes.

Jesus, Four, get ahold of yourself. A glimpse of skin, and you're getting a hard-on? Over your friend's little sister? What are you, fourteen? Pull it together. Fuck.

Luckily, Tris is too preoccupied with being embarrassed to notice the direction of his gaze. He stares at the panel with the floor number the rest of the ride. Their floor finally arrives, and they step out of the elevator.

"My office is just up here," Four says. "Follow me, and we can finally get this interview done and dusted."

A few moments later, they're sitting on opposite sides of his desk. Tris has a little notepad and pen in front of her and suddenly looks all business. He's honestly quite impressed. "First off, I want to apologize for being late. I was on my way over here, but someone happened to spill coffee on me out on the street. I had to buy a new shirt." He cocks her a crooked grin. "It's okay, though. The perpetrator had an important interview to rush to."

Her lips part in surprise. "Oh my God. Was that you?"

He nods, enjoying her reaction.

"You're not just teasing me?" she narrows her eyes at him, leaning forward in her chair to examine him more closely with those bewitching eyes.

He shakes his head. "Nope, really me. But hey, we're here now, right? And that's what matters." He hadn't planned on mentioning it, but he couldn't resist. And now she's blushing again, except this time, it's spread to her upper chest too. She's dangerously adorable. Leave it to him to torment himself with this girl that he knows he can never have.

"Look, Four, after everything that's happened today, I'll understand if you don't want to take me on," she says, her words tumbling out of her mouth. "I'm a walking disaster. I know that."

"Stop, please," Four says, holding up a hand with what he hopes is a reassuring smile. "I don't want to hear any of that nonsense. We all have bad days, and hey, at least today will be memorable. A new shirt and a near-fight, all before lunch? Most days I've barely woken up properly by now."

She breathes a sigh of relief.

"And Tris, if that creep ex of yours comes sniffing by again, let me know, okay? He seems like a really nasty piece of work, and no woman should have to deal with that. Tell me if he causes you any more trouble, and I'll get it dealt with. Promise me."

She hesitates for a few moments.

"I want to make this a comfortable work environment for you," he adds.

"Deal," she eventually says, "but you have to promise not to say anything to Caleb. He already has enough on his plate, and I don't want to add to his worries. Peter's a jerk, but he's all bark, no bite. You probably scared him enough already."

"Okay," he says reluctantly. "But don't keep this to yourself. It could be dangerous."

"I'll keep that in mind." She nods. "Four, is there anything I can do to repay you for that shirt I ruined? It must've been terribly expensive."

"Don't worry about it," he says, waving a dismissive hand.

"Really?"

"Yeah, seriously. Let's move on," Four says. "I'm afraid this interview is going to have to be short. I've got a big meeting later on, and I need all the time I can get to prepare for it. So, you're applying to be my personal assistant. It'll random tasks and whatever admin stuff I don't have time for. You think you can handle that?"

"Sure can," she nods. "You can rely on me. I'm actually not as much of a disaster as I might appear after the events of this morning. I'm organized, I'm good on the phone, and I'm used to dealing with assholes."

Four chuckles at that last one. "Those are all useful skills."

She catches herself, looking panicked. "Not that I'm saying you're an asshole. But, you know; the stereotype of big business guys and stuff, they can be assholes. So . . . I'm good at dealing with them. Not you. But I'll be good at dealing with you too."

"That's good."

"My God." Tris leans back and pinches her temples. "I really am trying my best to not get this job, aren't I?"

He's laughing now, and it feels good. He wasn't joking when he told her his work days tend to lean on the boring side. Looks like that's about to change, though. "No, you're actually completely right," he says. "Plenty of suits are complete assholes, and I hate dealing with them. So if you can do that for me, I'll actually be really grateful."

Her face lights up in a stunning smile, and damn, there goes his cock again. She's going to be dangerous. Going to have to watch himself with her. She's fucking gorgeous.

"Great," she says, giving him a mischievous grin. "I'll be your premier asshole handler. Could I have that title on my door do you think?"

They both burst out laughing, and he knows he's made the right choice in taking Tris on. If nothing else, at least his days will be more interesting.

"So, when can I start?" she asks. "Is there anything you need me to do today? I want to make up for the time you lost having to buy a new shirt and stuff. If you've got that big meeting later. You can probably use all the time you can get, right?"

He glances at the stack of accounts that need filing. "Well, there are these. I've been putting these damn things off for a month." She leans over the desk, unwittingly giving him another glimpse of her cleavage as she grabs the stack of papers.

"Accounts? Where do they need to go?" she asks, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

He turns his monitor slightly to show her the software they use, and as she moved her chair around to sit next to him, she stumbled and ended up landing right into his lap. Despite his best efforts, it's a struggle to stay focused when she smells so good, and to keep her from feeling how his body was reacting to her.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Tris said as she moved from his lap.

"That's ok," Four says as she sits down beside him.

"I can do this," she says, brushing against him as she reaches for the mouse. She seems familiar with the software already. "Go and prepare for your meeting. I'll have this all done by the time you're finished."

He smiles, glad to be rid of the damn things. Having a PA is going to be awesome.

As he crosses the room and open the door to leave, a thought strikes him. "Hey, you really want to repay me for that shirt?"

Tris glances up from the computer. "Of course. You can take it out of my paycheck, but maybe not all of it from one paycheck. Maybe we can do it in installments, or—"

"Tris, I'm not going to dock your pay," he cuts her off, chuckling. She really is cute when she gets all frantic.

"Oh." A relieved gust of air escapes her mouth.

"Can you keep Saturday night free, though?"

"Sure, I guess. What for?" she asks, a quizzical expression on her face.

"Well, that would be telling, wouldn't it? Sometimes, I'm going to need you to accompany me outside of traditional office hours. That won't be a problem, will it?"

She frowns, uncertainty flitting across her face. "No, I don't think so. But . . . it's not a date, is it? I'm not that kind of girl, Four."

He can't tell if she's serious or not.

"Don't worry," Four says. "I won't make you do anything you don't want to. Promise. Although . . . you may find yourself doing things you don't usually do . . ."

"Well, aren't you a regular man of mystery?" she teases with a little smile. "Okay, Saturday night is now blocked out on my calendar. The hot date I had planned with a tub of ice-cream and the TV is just going to have to wait until another time."

She returns her attention to the paperwork, and he turns and leaves the office. He knows he should be hyper-focused on this meeting, but he just can't stop thinking about her . . .


	2. Chapter 2

_**(A/N-Thanks to all who read and reviewed, followed, and faved this story. Appreciate it all so much. And thanks to Lynn for beta reading this.)**_

* * *

Tris POV

The week passes quickly as she gets the hang of the new job. Four is busy all the time with meetings and travel and who-knows-what, so he mostly leaves her to it although he checks in from time to time. She's tried to press him a few times on exactly what is going to happen on Saturday night, but he just smiles that infuriatingly smug smile that's starting to feel familiar by now and tells her to wait and see.

"I don't like surprises," she tells him. "Can't you give me a clue? I want to make sure I'm dressed appropriately, at least. Is it a social thing? A work thing? Where is it going to be? A restaurant? A bar? A conference? You've got to give me something to go on!"

"I've got everything handled," is all he says. "You just need to bring yourself, and everything else will be taken care of." No matter how much she presses him and cajoles him, he won't budge. She'd never tell him this . . . but to be honest, it's a little thrilling. Even though she told him that she doesn't like surprises, she actually kind of does. Maybe just a little.

All in all, she's feeling good. She's doing well at work. She hasn't heard from Peter since he got roughed up by those security guards. And she gets to spend time with hot, hunky Four. Well, some time, seeing as he's busy a lot. When he's around, he's a complete distraction, which is not totally his fault. She just can't help but stare at the muscles bulging underneath his business suit. And when he cracks a joke or smiles at her, there's a little flutter that starts low down in her belly and spreads all over. She has to keep reminding herself that he's just being a good boss and that he's not interested in her that way.

He could have any woman he wants. He's hardly going to be lusting after a lowly assistant whose creepy ex-boyfriend tries to start fights with him. But there's no harm in looking. So she does. A lot. Maybe a little too much.

It's Saturday afternoon, her first day off since she started the job, and she's sitting alone at home.

She's been fully made up since about 10 a.m. because Four never told her what time he wanted her to be ready. She's basically just been pacing around her apartment since then, checking her phone every five minutes to see if he's texted or called. She feels like that teenager with a crush all over again, which is ridiculous. He's probably taking her to some industry conference. But no matter how many times she tells herself to relax, that it's he probably just needs her around to help him collect business cards or take notes, it doesn't work, and she's checking the phone all over again.

Finally, around 3 p.m., she gets a text from Four.

Room 2218 at the Ritz-Carlton. Meet me there as soon as you can.

A hotel room? Is he really trying something with me? She knows she's been crushing on him, but that doesn't mean he's going to get away with something like this. Just booking a hotel room and expecting her to turn up and let him do whatever he wants with her? No way.

But . . . he wouldn't do that. Would he? She's being way too suspicious.

She hesitates for a moment but then decides to go along anyway, mostly because she's intrigued. If he's waiting in there, wearing only a towel or something, she can just rip him a new one—that might even be kind of fun. Besides, what is she going to do? Tell him she's not going and she doesn't care if he fires her over this?

While she's in the bus on her way over there, Caleb calls.

"Hey, sis." His voice filters through her old phone's tinny speaker. "How's the new job going? Your first paycheck should be due soon right? I'll be expecting a cut."

"For what?" she asks, laughing. "I'll have you know I got the job entirely on my own merit, thank you very much."

"Yeah? Well, Four sent me a text the other day, said he didn't even set up any interviews with anyone else. That sounds to me like I'd at least eliminated your competition, Tris."

"Yeah, okay, fine. Thank you. That's what you wanted to hear?"

"Yeah. You're welcome." A short pause. When Caleb speaks again. There's a tense undercurrent in his voice. "So, has Peter shown up again?"

"No," she answers quickly. "I haven't thought about Peter all week. Maybe he's gotten the message now."

"Really? He's not bothering you too much is he? Do I need to go pay him a visit?" Caleb asks. He can be a little overprotective sometimes.

"No, Caleb. Please. You'll only make things worse. I can handle my own business. He's been dealt with."

"Hmmm. If you say so." Caleb still sounds unconvinced.

Ever since their parents had died, Caleb's watched over her. She's grateful for everything he's done, of course, but sometimes she gets the impression he still thinks she's a kid. It's more than a little infuriating.

"I do," shes say, "and you're just going to have to take my word for it."

She sees the hotel coming up, "Listen, Caleb, I'm right in the middle of something. I'll call you back later in the week so we can have a real catch-up, okay?"

"All right, Tris. But you let me know if you get yourself into any trouble. Promise me."

"I promise, Caleb. Stop worrying. I'll talk to you soon." Tris hangs up the call just as she hops off the bus, takes a deep breath, and heads inside, wondering what she's getting herself into. She gets the key from reception, takes the elevator up, and enters a plush hotel room, her mouth agape. Thick, soft carpeting. A separate seating area with its own TV. Another TV hanging on the wall across from the oversized bed. A massive bathtub with massage jets in the marble-floor bathroom. This room probably costs like a week's salary for her. For a little while, she's sort of awkwardly hover around, not sure what to do.

She doesn't know what to expect when Four arrives. Is he going to try and jump her or something? Still, now that she's here, it doesn't seem like the most unattractive idea to immerse herself in warm water and soap bubbles, sharing a bottle of champagne with Four while drops of water roll down his golden skin, tracing the contours of his muscular . . .

Damn it, Tris. No. Bad. That would be bad.

She shakes her head. As if that would help get rid of the sexy images that have already begun to form in her brain. She's got to stay professional. She can't ruin her career over some guy, even if that guy is Four.

Was it a bad idea to come here?

As these thoughts crowd her mind, the door opens. Her heart skips a beat at the soft click, and she steps out of the bathroom. It's him. Four. He's dressed to the nines—tux, shiny shoes, the whole nine yards. Damn, he looks good.

"Hey, thanks for coming. I was worried you might not," he says, handing over a big, fancy-looking shopping bag to her. "Just put those on, and we can get started."

Her mind goes wild with possibilities as she robotically takes the bag by the handles, her hand grazing over Four's for a heart-stopping moment. Glancing at Four's smile, she peeks inside the bag . . . A dress, it looks like, along with some shoes. The tags are still on . . . and the prices, my God. Her eyes water at the sight.

What the hell is going on?

If he thinks that just because he gave her a job, he can book a fancy hotel room, buy her some slutty clothes, and then do whatever he wants, he's got another think coming. She's honestly stunned—she didn't expect this from him at all. She can get another job where she doesn't need to sacrifice her dignity, thank you very much. Four is standing there, arms crossed, looking very pleased with himself.

"Come on," he says impatiently, "what are you waiting for? You said you'd help me out to repay me for ruining that shirt. We're running late."

Tris stands there, open-mouthed. How can he be so brazen?

"Yeah, I said I'd help you out," she says indignantly. "But that doesn't mean I'm just going to put a slutty costume on and let you do whatever you want to me in a hotel room. What the hell, Four?"

Four stares at her like she's sprouted a second head.

And then, he bursts out laughing.

******************PAGEBREAK*************

Four POV

He feels kind of bad for laughing because she looks genuinely quite scared and offended, but what she's suggesting is so absurd that he just can't help himself. "What exactly do you think I want you to do?" he asks her, more laughter bubbling up to the surface.

She looks like a rabbit in the headlights, her big, grey eyes widened.

"Well, the hotel room and the clothes, and . . ." Tris trails off then looks up at him. "Have I got this wrong? Because from where I'm standing, I'm sure you could forgive me for thinking you wanted 'repayment' for the favor in . . . well, sex."

He raises an eyebrow at her. "Really? My buddy's little sister, who I recently saw get harassed by her asshole ex? You think I'm going to invite you here and expect you to sleep with me? Come on, Tris, you know me better than that."

"Well . . ." Tris reddens charmingly and looks down at her feet. "I kept trying to tell myself that I was wrong, that you weren't like that . . ."

"And . . .?"

"No! I'm not going to get embarrassed." She pulls her shoulders up and then stares him right in the eye. "You should have just told me what you were doing—not all of this silly cloak-and-dagger bullshit. What do you expect a girl to think when you invite her to a hotel room and then turn up and say the stuff you did?"

"It's interesting that that's the first place your thoughts go, though." he grins. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say that's a sign of a dirty mind. Wouldn't you?" She blushes again, but there's the tiniest sign of a smile tugging the corners of her lips up. At least the tension is defused now.

"Look, Tris, I don't want to toot my own horn too much, but on any given night, I can go to a bar in the city and get any girl I want. I don't need to resort to dirty tricks. Believe me."

For a second, he sees an expression cross her face, and it almost looks like jealousy . . . then it's gone.

Interesting.

But keep things professional, Four. Always remember that. Your dick has gotten you in trouble before, and it definitely will here if you let it.

"Put this on." he picks up the shopping bag from where Tris dropped it on the floor and hands it back to her.

She makes a face.

"In the bathroom," he quickly adds. "I promise I won't peek at you."

"That's not it," Tris says, unable to hide her smile anymore. "I, uh . . . Can't you just tell me what's going on?"

"Once you're dressed and ready, we'll head down, and I'll fill you in on what's going on," he promises.

"Can't you just tell me now? I'm bored of Four's Magical Mystery Tour already."

"No time." he shakes his head. "Quick, get dressed. Or we're going to be late."

Tris hesitates, looking like she's going to insist, but eventually, she turns and goes into the bathroom with a sigh of resignation. He waits impatiently on the couch while she puts the dress on. He hasn't been looking forward to this evening, and he just wants to get it over and done with. He'll admit having Tris by his side makes things better, though. He laughs softly to himself as he recalls her expression mere minutes ago.

The door to the en-suite cracks open a few minutes later, and Tris emerges.

His breath catches in his throat.

Damn . . .

She looks like a million dollars. Utterly amazing. He picked out the dress himself because he needed her to make a statement . . . but wow. She fills it out very nicely indeed. It's a red dress, low-cut, and cinched in at the waist to highlight her hourglass figure. The color accentuates her blond hair perfectly.

"Four, I'm not sure about this." Tris shuffles out of the bathroom. She turns her back on him to face the full-length mirror.

Fuck. Her rounded ass looks amazing in that dress too.

"I don't normally go for dresses that show quite so much cleavage," Tris says, looking self-consciously at herself.

He drags her eyes from that perfect ass with much effort and gives her an encouraging smile, forcing himself not to stare at the reflection of her creamy, gravity-defying tits in the mirror. "What? You look great. Really, really great. And I mean that 100 percent."

"Well, if you say so," she says with a sigh, even as her face lights up at the compliment. "Okay. So what are we doing?"

He holds out his arm, and she links hers with his as they leave the hotel room and take the elevator down. Crossing the main lobby, he notice heads turning, eyes staring at Tris. It's almost a crime that she never dresses up like this. She looks fit for the red carpet.

"It's an . . . wedding," Four says. "I didn't want to come, but my parents are forcing me. I needed a date, or at least I needed to pretend I had a date."

"Why, though?" she asks, tilting her head slightly.

He takes a deep breath. May as well come out and tell her the whole truth. It's probably too late for her to back out now.

"Well . . . the person getting engaged is my cousin, Eric. And he's going to get married to my ex girlfriend, Nina."

Tris' eyes widen. "Oh . . . that might be awkward."

"Might?" he laugh. "It's definitely going to be awkward. Like I said, I'd rather be at home right now, but my parents have guilt-tripped me into coming. 'That's all in the past,' and 'You should be happy for your cousin, Four."

Tris looks up at him in sympathy. "But . . . why do you need a pretend date? Couldn't you have just picked up one of those women at a bar like you were talking about before?"

She smiles sweetly to hide the barb, but he still winces. That's a good burn.

"I'm not looking for anything serious right now," Four says. "So you don't need to worry. I'm not interested in whatever you thought I wanted back up there. I just need to get my family off my back."

Now it's her turn to look uncomfortable, but they don't have any time to somehow make things even more awkward because they're standing outside the grand ballroom where the reception is taking place.

"Thanks for this," he leans in and whispers in Tris' ear before they enter. The intoxicating scent of her perfume fills his nostrils. "I owe you. You can let me do the talking if you like." He pulls a diamond ring out of his pocket and quickly slips it onto her finger. She looks down at it, and her gaze darts up at him.

"Four! What the hell is this?" she asks with wide, shocked eyes.

"Just play along," he says. "It'll be fun." He winks at her as they enter the ballroom together. It's already busy, with people laughing, chatting, eating, and drinking. Eric and Nina are smiling for pictures while a team of photographers follow them around.

Aunt Angelina and Uncle Ted are standing over near the windows, and they spot him almost immediately, waving them over. "Four, darling, we're so glad you decided to come along."

Four leans in and give Aunt Angelina a kiss, but she's already focused on Tris, looking her up and down. Judging by the smile on her face, she quite clearly approves.

"And who is this, son?" his uncle asks, smiling.

"This is Tris," Four says. "My fiancée."

"Your fiancée?" Aunt Angelina asks, exchanging surprised looks with her husband. "My, you do keep things close to your chest; don't you, Four?"

"I can agree with that," Tris laughs, giving him a meaningful stare. "It's lovely to meet you both. Four has told me so much about you."

They chat away for a while, and he immediately notes just how good of an actress Tris is. She's a natural, charming his aunt and uncle with wit and humor. Nobody would ever suspect that she only learned about being his 'fiancée' right before they entered this room.

He's impressed. Really impressed. But he also takes a mental note. If she's this good of a liar, he needs to keep his guard up around her. Who knows what else she's capable of? But for now, he's simply happy that she's playing along, just like he asked her to, and she's doing such a good job of it.

"So, how did you two meet?" Uncle Ted asks, smiling.

The question catches him momentarily off-guard, but Tris steps in smoothly.

"Roller derby," she says. "We met at roller derby. Four's a whizz on his skates."

"Roller-derby?" they ask, both laughing.

"Oh, yeah," Tris says, grinning. "I'll have to get him to demonstrate just how good he is for you some time."

"Four, how many other secrets are you hiding from us?" Aunt Angelina asks.

"Not many." he smiles tightly and squeeze Tris' hand.

She squeezes right back and gives him the sweetest smile, the kind that'd make him almost believe she's actually besotted with him if he wasn't the one who invented this lie. She's enjoying herself a little too much. He tells his aunt and uncle they're going to look for a drink and drags Tris away before she says something even more ridiculous.

"Roller derby?" he hisses as they make their way through the crowd. "What the hell made you say that?"

"I don't know." She shrugs, giggling. "First thing that came into my head, I guess. I think you'd look good in skates. Maybe some hot pink ones."

"You will never see me wear roller skates," Four says through gritted teeth. "Never."

"Oh, but Aunt Angelina and Uncle Ted would be so disappointed." She pouts.

Before Four has the chance to tell her to tone it down a little and let him do most of the talking, he suddenly hears his name being called.

He turns and groans.

It's his parents.


	3. Chapter 3

(A/N-Thanks to all who read and reviewed, followed, and faved this story. Appreciate it all so much. And thanks to Lynn for beta reading this.)

* * *

Tris POV

She just can't resist ribbing Four a little.

When he slipped that ring onto her finger without so much as a warning . . . Well, she was somewhere between thrilled and horrified. She's barely had a chance to look at it, but it seems to be a real diamond—and a big, shiny one at that. Anyway, if he's going to put her on the spot and make her lie for him, the least she's going to do is have some fun with it. If he expects her to be demure and quiet, he's picked the wrong girl for his weird little ruse. She may as well have some fun with this whole situation if she's going to be forced into it.

She's still giggling from the roller-derby thing as they walk away. The expression on Four's face when she came out with that was something to behold. He looked like a weird combination of amused, confused, and horrified. His aunt and uncle weren't far off that either. Four doesn't look like he appreciates the joke quite so much, though. He's stone-faced and silent as he grips her hand just a little too tight as if he's afraid she'll run around and tell his entire family he also freelances as a clown at the local circus.

All of a sudden, Four stops and lets out a little groan.

Tris follows his gaze and sees an older couple bustling through the crowds toward them, big smiles lighting up their faces. They have to be his parents—the family resemblance is striking.

"Tobias!" his mom beams.

"Mother, my name is Four," he says.

"Of course. We're so happy you came! Aren't we, Marcus?"

His dad sort of grunts, non-committal. He mumbles something about "rather be at home." He looks like he wants to be here about as much as Four does. Well, she can see where Four gets that side of his personality from.

"Mom, Dad, this is Tris," Four says. "She's my fiancee'. We, uh . . . got engaged recently."

His parents are shocked silent for a moment, jaws agape. Even his dad looks wide awake now. His Mom recovers first, sweeping Tris into a big hug then planting a kiss on her cheek. "Well, don't you look gorgeous, Tris."

"Thank you," Tris says.

She rounds on Four. "What are you doing, getting engaged without us ever meeting Tris? Honestly, Four, I can't understand you sometimes. Poor Tris probably thinks you've been hiding her from us."

Four opens his mouth to speak, but she cuts in. "It's been a bit of a whirlwind romance," Tris says with a smile. "We've barely had a chance to get to know each other, let alone meet the family."

"Our Four has always had a good eye for girls," Marcus says, eyes twinkling as he gives her a hug of his own. "I'm glad to see he's still got his dad's good taste."

"We need to make up for lost time; don't we, Tris? Say, we're going away next weekend to the lake house at Grand Lake for Christmas. Why don't you come along?"

"Great idea," says Marcus. "It's beautiful up there. Isn't it, Four?"

Four nods, looking distinctly uncomfortable with the way this conversation is panning out.

"That sounds wonderful," Tris says.

"Excellent! We absolutely must get to know the newest member of the family." Evelyn Eaton says.

"Great," Marcus says. "Can't wait. I used to take Four up there when he was little. Once, we were fishing, and he fell right into the water. He got his pants snagged on some weeds and ended up naked with the fish nibbling at his little worm. Remember, Evelyn?"

"Oh, I remember it so well," she says, laughing so hard she's running out of breath. "Four was always such a serious little child. I'll never forget the expression on his face when we eventually hauled him, butt naked, out of the water. Like a grumpy, old man trapped in a little kid's body."

"I'm not sure he's changed all that much in the years since," Tris says, laughing along with them, thoroughly enjoying herself. Four clears his throat and squeezes her waist. He's probably regretting getting her to do this for him now, but she's having the time of her life. His parents and her chit-chat for a little while longer while he stands there stone-faced, looking like he'd rather be anywhere except here.

His parents eventually excuse themselves, mentioning that they need to go catch up with the rest of the family, leaving her and Four alone again.

"What the hell was that?" Four asks as soon as they're out of of earshot. "I asked you to pretend to be my fiancée for one night—not go away with my parents for Christmas."

"What can I say?" Tris shrugs. "I'm a method actor. I was just getting into my role, playing my part, like you asked me. Besides, it'll be fun. Grand Lake is supposed to be beautiful."

"I was hoping you'd be able to wriggle your way out of it," he grumbles. "It's not like I could have. Not without raising their suspicions."

"An outright 'no' would've looked suspicious coming from me too," she says.

"Never mind." Four sighs and squeezes his temples. "I guess we'll just have to keep up the pretense for a little while longer."

"Okay."

"Can you . . ." Four takes her hands and looks into her eyes, the intensity in his gaze making her heart race. "Can you promise me to tone it down a little from now on, though? If you carry on like this, before long, my mom is going to have a wedding venue booked and start asking me when we're giving her a grandchild."

"I'm not promising anything," Tris tells him, ignoring the tingles running up and down her spine at his touch. "I'm having fun, and if you didn't want that, you shouldn't have sprung this whole thing on me without any warning. You reap what you sow."

He rolls his eyes. "I need a drink. Come on. Let's find the bar."

They spend the next couple of hours milling around the party, making small talk with Four's extended family. Out of some (probably misguided) sense of sympathy for him, she does tone down her quips and jokes. She plays the role of the sweet, quiet, new fiancée. Four's family all seem like pleasant, polite people, friendly and welcoming. She finds herself almost forgetting she's only pretending to be his fiancée.

After a while, Tris excuses herself from the party to find the restroom. It's just as luxurious as the rest of the hotel. Checking herself out in the mirror, she notes that Four was right—her boobs do look great in this dress.

As she makes her way back to the party, she hears someone call her name. "Tris! Stop!"

You've got to be freaking kidding me.

She whirls around to see Peter charging down the swanky hallway towards her. He looks absolutely terrible, like he hasn't slept for days. His hair is wild and his eyes wilder. "Peter, you need to leave." she draws back from him, actually afraid—he looks completely out of his mind. "Don't do this."

But Peter doesn't stop advancing, stalking her until she's backed into a corner.

"I'm not going anywhere, Tris," he rasps. He's got a smile on his face now—a horrible, cruel smile. "You're mine, and you'll always be mine. You just need to be made to realize that."

"Ouch, Peter, you're hurting me," she protests when he grabs her arm, hard, and tries to drag her away with him. "Just let go, leave, and get some help. You're not well."

As he leans in close, she can smell the stale booze on his breath.

Damn it. He's always extra crazy when he's drunk.

"Yeah, you're right," he says. "I'm not well. You ripped my heart out of my chest without any warning, and then you expect me to just get over it and move on? It doesn't work like that, Tris. You can't do this to me."

"Are you here with him? That meathead from the lobby the other day?" Peter's voice is pure venom. "How dare you think you can just drop me and go fuck a brainless asshole like that? He'll never treat you as good as I can, Tris. He'll never worship you like I do. He'll—"

Peter lets out a strangled cry as he disappears from her view.

Wait. He didn't disappear. Of course he didn't

He fell. Like a sack of bricks.

She hears the sickening sound of a fist connecting with Peter's face before she notices Four with his hands on Peter's collar, hauling him off her. Before she can fully process what's going on, Four's fist smashes into Peter's face again.

"I told you," Four says, breathing heavily, "to stay away from her, you fucking freak."

Blood is oozing from Peter's nose as he struggles to get back to his unsteady feet.

"Don't get up," Four growls. "Stay down there if you know what's good for you."

"Fuck you!" Peter screams, even as he remains lying on the carpeted floor of the hotel hallway. "You stole my fucking woman! You think I'm just going to let you have her? You'll have to kill me!"

"Don't tempt me," Four says in a low, threatening voice. He looks so sincere that she actually starts to think he might.

Tris moves close enough to the men for her to put a shaky hand on Four's shoulder.

"He's not worth it," she say, her voice thin. "Just leave him here. He's done. Let's get back into the ballroom."

Four gives her a small nod, keeping his dark glare on Peter. That's when four security guards turn up, obviously drawn by Peter's shouting. They see Four standing over a bleeding man and immediately grab him.

"He assaulted me!" Peter screeches, pointing an accusing finger at Four. "Arrest him!"

"We're not the cops. If you idiots want to fight, do it someplace else." one of the burly guards says. Judging by the way the other two guys look at him, he appears to be the leader.

"He was just protecting me," Tris says, indicating Four. "This man on the floor was harassing me and threatening me."

"I don't care who did what to who," another guard says. "All three of you need to leave. Now."

Four looks furious as he pulls himself up to his full height.

"Let's go," she whispers in Four's ear. "He isn't worth getting arrested for. I think we've convinced your family we're engaged, right? So we can leave."

Four's jaw is clenched, but he nods—tersely.

Two of the security guards haul Peter up off the floor.

"Take him to the side entrance. And make sure he's off the property before you let him out of your sight," the lead guard says.

As Peter is being dragged off, he stares at her and Four with pure murder in his eyes. It's so intense that she shivers a little. She used to think he wasn't capable of anything truly scary, but she's revising her opinion on that now.

"Let's go. We're taking you two out through the other entrance." The lead security guard puts his hand on Four's shoulder.

"We can walk," Four snaps, shrugging off the guard's hand. A few minutes later, they're outside. Four's car is brought to him and a few minutes later they are driving towards her home.

"Thank you," she tells Four.

He nods. "You need to go to the cops about that fucking freak before he does something really bad. He's not right in the head."

"Yeah, probably," she says. "Another day. I think he got the message tonight."

"Sorry I sprung that whole thing on you," Four eventually says, turning to look at her. "You handled it well, though."

"Oh, I know." Tris grins.

Four chuckles. "But if I have to go buy a pair of pink roller skates just to keep up appearances I'm going to be mad as hell."

Tris giggles at the mental image, and Four laughs along with her, the tension melting away

"Sorry my weirdo ex keeps turning up and trying to fight you," Tris says. "But it looks like you can handle yourself pretty well."

"I wish I didn't have to do it, but I get the impression this Peter guy isn't one to take subtle hints. I don't think he's done yet, either, by the way he was looking at us as he got dragged away. The guy creeps me the fuck out. You should watch yourself, Tris."

"I will." Knowing that Four is on her side gives her some sense of security.

"So," he says, elongating the vowel as he lets out a big breath, "I guess we're going to have to keep up this whole pretend engagement for a little while longer, now you've accepted my parents' invitation. I'll have to think of a reason for us to 'split up' after that I guess."

"I vote for 'you snore too loud', and I just couldn't bear it anymore.'"

"Nah. Won't work. My parents know I don't snore." He shakes his head, a big grin splitting his gorgeous face. "I was thinking more along the lines of 'she's way too high maintenance, and she kept on saying stupid shit, and I just couldn't bear it anymore.' Far more believable."

"Careful," she warns him. "If you think I've reached the limit of stupid shit I can say, well, you haven't seen anything yet. Don't push me."

***********PAGEBREAK*************

Tris POV

She's back at work after her unusual weekend, and now she's faced with an unusual Four. She still can't get over his weird decision to pretend that she's his new fiancée, but whatever. It was fun, and she was actually really enjoying herself until Peter showed up and ruined everything. But one thing she's finding it difficult to adjust to is how different Four can be at work compared to how he was outside. Sure, he was a little gruff and not amused at the hilarious stories she concocted for his family, but overall, he was sweet. He stood up for her when Peter threatened her.

Today, though, Four's all business—even more than normal.

He's taking on a new project, and the stress is obviously taking a toll on him because today, he's been either locking himself in his office or stomping around, shoulders tense, forehead creased, and gaze firmly locked on one of his many gadgets. This morning, as she entered his office, he barely glanced up when she greeted him. He seemed fully absorbed in whatever work he was doing at his desk. It puzzled her a little to suddenly see him so distant.

It got worse when he had some new task for her to do. It was a proposal of some sort about a new team he wanted to create. She agreed to write it up for him but accidentally left in some spelling mistakes. When she emailed it to him, he printed it out and came striding over to her desk, papers clutched in his hand.

"What's this?" he asked.

Tris blinked at him. "The proposal you asked me to write."

"Look." He placed the print-outs down on her desk, spelling errors circled in angry, red pen. "Mistakes like these aren't acceptable. I want you to fix them."

To her, the errors seemed so small that probably nobody would have even noticed them. But sure, she guesses it was kind of sloppy. "Okay," she says. "I'll get them fixed right now and email you over a new copy of the proposal."

"Great. Well, let's go then." Standing behind her. And he stayed there, watching as she corrected all the errors, breathing down her neck as he checked to make sure she did it properly. She stayed silent and got on with the work, but it was irritating—both his tone and his demeanor. Also, the heat emanating from his body sent tingles down her spine, making it hard to concentrate.

"Four, you've already outlined the mistakes on the hard copy. I can handle it. You don't need to watch me actually make the corrections," she protested eventually.

"I just want to make sure you catch them all," he said. "I need to make sure this project goes perfectly."

He didn't seem angry; just overbearing and strict. Nothing like he was Saturday evening. Eventually, all the mistakes were fixed, and he went back to his desk, leaving her confused.

Someone had woken up on the wrong side of the bed.

Later that afternoon, he brought over a little notebook and pen to her desk.

"I'm going to give this to you," he stated. "I need you to write down everything I say in case we need it later."

She raised an eyebrow. "Everything? Like, what you're having for lunch and if I could get you a coffee?"

He didn't look amused at her attempt at humor. "You know what I mean, Tris."

She opened the notebook and wrote that down. He tried not to smile, which was at least a small victory.

She's sitting in the lunchroom, eating, when a girl named Christina walks in. She smiles and comes and sits next to her. Tris knows her name but not much else about her. Four's been keeping Tris so busy that she's barely had time to get to know her coworkers. Christina seems chatty and friendly, though.

"Hi, Tris. How are you settling in?" she asks, taking the chair across the table from her.

"Good. Thanks, Christina. Four's keeping me busy."

She laughs. "Oh yeah, Four can be a little intense, can't he? Especially when there are new clients to impress."

Tris smiles. "'Intense' is one way of putting it; that's for sure. He's being so nit-picky and micro-managing. He stood over my shoulders to make sure I didn't make spelling mistakes, for God's sake."

Christina's eyes are positively gleaming as she listens.

"He's going away on a business trip to New York in a couple of days," Tris continues. "To be honest, I'm looking forward to it. At least, I'll be able to get some work done without him breathing down my neck."

She nods. "If things ever get difficult for you, I'm always a sympathetic ear, hon."

"Thanks, Christina." Tris glances at her watch. "Well, lunchtime's over. I guess I'd better get back to my desk before he sends out a search party."

She goes back and sit at her desk. A few seconds later, Four himself shows up, all business. "Tris, write this down," he begins. He comes and stands near to her. As much as she hates it when he does this, she has to admit that his proximity to her is more than just an annoyance.

He smells so damn good—whatever cologne he uses is intoxicating. And when he leans over her to point out something or another on the screen, when his body brushes against hers, it's like a little electric thrill passes between them. It almost makes her want to make deliberate mistakes so he'll keep doing it. Almost.

He dictates his itinerary to her—flight times, meeting locations, stuff like that. Boring stuff, but she'll admit her heart is beating slightly faster than normal.

"Thanks, Nina," he says when she's done, shooting her a small, tired smile that starts flutters down low in her stomach. Then he's gone, off to his next engagement.

And she sits there, wondering why the hell she feels like this when he's around her even though he pisses her the hell off sometimes. He's your boss, nothing more, despite this fake engagement weirdness. Pull it together, Tris.

But that's far easier said than done.

********************PAGEBREAK***********

Fuck. As if he doesn't already have enough on his plate.

He's in New York for this new project, and it's all going wrong. To be fair, they've already had a few meetings, and they've been okay. But tomorrow morning, they'll need the notarized original of a specific document to finalize the deal . . . and he doesn't fucking have it. He's kicking himself for being an idiot. He fucked up, and he needs to fix this.

Zeke, his business partner is with him on this trip—it's a big enough deal that his presence will help ease the investors' minds. He's taking a few days off his schedule as a happily married family man to play at big-shot CEO again, and he seems to be enjoying himself.

"Man, it feels good to be back at work," he says as he lounges on a couch and sips from a cold bottle of beer.

Four takes a break from his fretful pacing to cock an eyebrow at him. "Yeah, looks like you're really sweating."

He thinks for a moment then laughs. They've worked together long enough that they're more like brothers than anything else. In his wilder years, before he met Shauna, he needed an influence like that in his life. They trusted each other implicitly. Doesn't mean he can't still be an arrogant jerk sometimes, though. But Four guesses that's part of his charm.

"Anyway," he says. "You need to get this document, Four, or the deal's off. What are you going to do?"

Four bites his lip, thinking. "I'll deal with it."

He picks up his phone and dial Tris' number.

"Four?" she answers. "What's up? I wasn't expecting a call from you. Is everything okay over there?"

"Yeah . . . about that," he begins. "I screwed up. I need the notarized original of the contract in my desk at work. I just plain forgot."

"Oh, okay," she says casually. "I can go in now and courier it over to you if you want? I'll need overtime pay, of course. This girl don't work for free."

He chuckles at her little joke, the tension in his body melting a little. "That's not going to work. The document is vital for this deal, and I can't risk it not showing up in time. I had an idea . . ."

She groans. "That doesn't sound good."

"I'll book you a ticket tonight. You'll be here in a few hours. I know it's my fault, so I'll pay you double overtime, and I'll book you a first-class ticket to make up for it. How does that sound?"

"It sounds like a pain in the ass," she says, laughing. "But I guess I don't have all that much choice. Is booze included in first class?"

"All the champagne you can drink."

"Hmmm. Deal. But you owe me one."

"Owe you one?" he asks. "What about double overtime and first class; don't they count?"

"They're the baseline for even getting me to haul my pretty ass across the country. One favor owed makes up the balance."

Four sighs even as a small smile curves her lips. "Sure. Whatever. I'll book the flight now and email the details over to you. See you later."

Zeke's looking over at him with interest. "Was that your new assistant?"

"'The pretty one?'" Four folds his arms across his chest. "You've got to be careful with that kind of language, Zeke, now that you're a married man."

He shrugs. "A happily married man, yeah. A successfully coupled man who can't help but notice that his friend is having trouble telling a girl that he likes her."

Four can feel his face heat up like a teenager and immediately curses himself for it. He mumbles something about how it's just work, how he's just helping out a buddy's little sister.

"Sure, sure. Whatever you say," Zeke says in an infuriating, mocking tone.

He ignores him and glances at his phone for a distraction. There's a new text message.

Saw your new girlfriend at the wedding. She's pretty, in that low-key, girl-next-door kind of way.

It's from Nina, his ex, and it's a compliment so back-handed that it's practically a slap. He has no idea why she feels the need to text him.

He decides to reply.

Thanks. And it's fiancée, actually.

She's married now, to his cousin. He should just block her number—should but don't. He doesn't want the drama. For better or worse, she's in his family now, and he needs to be the better man. Stay cordial, and ignore her as best as possible. And, to be honest, having Tris around makes that significantly easier. He doesn't know if that's a good thing or not.


	4. Chapter 4

(A/N-Thanks to all who read and reviewed, followed, and faved this story. Appreciate it all so much. And thanks to Lynn for beta reading this.)

* * *

 **Tris POV**

So first class is . . . something else.

She's only ever flown coach, crammed in between snorers and other people's screaming children, so to have her own bed, as much free booze as she likes, gourmet food, and getting waited on hand and foot? Well, it is pretty damn awesome, thank you very much, and it more than makes up for the annoyance of having to fly across the country because Four forgot a freaking piece of paper.

She arrives in the early morning at the swanky hotel where Four is staying, still in the warm afterglow of free champagne, and heads straight to his room. She knocks on the door, and it almost immediately opens. Obviously, he's been waiting for her. He looks extremely relieved as he takes the document. He examines it closely like an archaeologist might inspect a priceless Egyptian artifact.

"Thanks so much for doing this," he says, smiling broadly. Evidently, the document has passed muster. "You really saved my ass."

"Anything for you, boss," she says, faux serious. "Oh, and for the extra money. That too."

Four's lips curl up into a bigger, even more charming smile, making her heart start to race the way it used to back when they were younger. Damn it. Why does it feel so good to see him again? She casts her glance behind him, wondering if he's got someone in there, some NYC girlfriend he's been hiding from everyone.

Then she realizes she's being stupid. He's been so wrapped up in work he hasn't even had the presence of mind to pay attention to his surroundings, to the point where he actually forgot to bring an important document to a major meeting.

"So, uh, now that my work here is done . . . do I actually need to be here? You're not just going to shove me back on the next flight home, are you?"

"No! Uh, of course not!" he says, a little too quickly.

"Really?" she asks, arms crossed. "You were really going to do that?"

"Hey, I said no. I wouldn't do that." The guilt that flashes across his face tells Tris that was probably exactly what he was going to do. Probably expects her to report straight in at work too.

"You're a terrible liar," she says. "And a terrible person. Anyway, screw that. I've never been to New York before, and I want to do some sightseeing. You can book me a room here and then give me the day off. I'll consider it the extra favor that I told you about."

"Well, sure, I guess," he says. "You did save my ass, so that's the least I can do."

He opens the door wider to let her in—no other girl here, for sure, unless she's hiding in the wardrobe. Four sits down on the couch and motions for her to join him. Then he picks up the room phone and books her into the room next door.

"Next door?" she asks playfully after the call. "But we're engaged to be married. Remember, sweetheart? Don't be such a prude."

"I'm a decent, traditional man," he says. "That would be utterly scandalous. My goodness, what would my mother say?"

Tris places her hand on his chest. "She seemed to like me. I'm sure she wouldn't mind."

For a moment, they look into each other's eyes, silent, and what started as a joke is threatening to get out of control. His chest is warm under her fingers, and she fights the urge to run her hand down to feel the hard ridges of his muscles. She can almost feel his heartbeat if she only presses harder . . .

No. She can't.

Breaking eye contact, she lean back away from him. Four lets out a cough then silence expands to fill the room. The swanky room where they're alone, where a plush bed sits just two feet away, staring at them.

Well, this is kind of intense.

Four shuffles on the spot uncomfortably, looking like he wants to say something but isn't sure what.

"I'm, uh, going to take a shower, have a nap, and head out to see the sights," she tells him. "Good luck with the meeting or deal or whatever it is you're doing today."

"Thanks," he says, his gaze tracking her every step of the way as she leaves the room.

There's something in his eyes, some expression that she can't quite put her finger on. Longing, almost. Need. Desire. Whatever it is, it's dangerous, and she can't walk down this path with her boss. Her life is already complicated enough without any extra shenanigans to deal with.

"Oh, Tris," he calls out as she's pulling the door open. "Can you try to be back here around 7-ish? We're going out for dinner after this deal is done to celebrate. You want to come along?"

"Sounds good," she says over her shoulder. "I'll be here."

She spends the day sightseeing, shopping, eating pizza, and generally having a whale of a time. Denver is a big city, but nothing compares to New York. Manhattan with its dizzying array of skyscrapers is overwhelming. The crowds, sights and smells are all just as she imagined them to be. The city is decorated with Christmas trees and lights all around.

Later Four knocks on her door around eight, looking devastatingly gorgeous in his tux, a big grin on his face.

"I take it the deal went well?" Tris asks.

"We got it signed," he says. "And it's all thanks to you. Well, not really, but it wouldn't have happened without that document."

"Good enough for me," she says, smiling. His mood is contagious.

He pauses for a moment, his eyes roaming over her, making her shiver a little under his attention. He meets her gaze. "Sorry. You look . . . amazing."

"Thank you." Heat creeps up her cheeks. She had bought a dark blue dress while she was out today.

"You seriously look amazing," Four repeats, appreciation in his eyes. "Wow. I'm so glad I took up roller derby, or I never would have met you."

They laugh together. This feels like the start of a fun night with Four. He offers her his arm, and she takes it, curling her fingers around his muscular biceps. They swap stories about their day as they walk together downstairs and have a car take them to the restaurant.

"Monsieur, madame, please come this way," their server says with a thick accent. "And, if I may say, madame looks very beautiful this evening. Monsieur is a lucky man."

"Oh my," Tris says, fluttering her hand in front of her face. "Such flattery. You're making me blush."

Four elbows her subtly in the ribs as they follow the French waiter.

"This is a fancy place," Four says, laughing, after they're seated. "No bad jokes or silly puns. You'll get us kicked out."

"You're no fun," she says, pouting. They chat for a little while, nibbling on bread, when Zeke Pedrad arrives.

"Hi, lovebirds," he says, winking at Four. "You sure you want me here, cramping your style? I don't want to be a third wheel or anything."

"Shut up, Zeke" Four says. "Anyway, let's celebrate."

Four orders a couple of bottles of eye-wateringly expensive wine while she sneaks a look at the menu and winces.

"It'll go on expenses," Zeke says, laughing. "Don't worry. Or Four will pay. Either works for me."

"I'm a cheap date. But hey, if you gentlemen want to order the Chateaux-Nerf-du-Pap or whatever it's called, I'll drink that too. No problem."

"A classy lady. I like that." Four touches her arm with a grin, and she feels a thrill run through her body at the contact. He seems much more relaxed, now that the deal is done. She sees now that the whole week he's definitely been tense and stressed about it, which might explain some of his more annoying habits in the office. She guesses she'll forgive him. She has no idea what it's like to negotiate million-dollar deals, so she'll give him the benefit of the doubt.

The wine comes, and the waiter dutifully pours a little in each of their glasses, and she gulps hers down immediately. It's only when she puts the empty glass down that she notices the incredulous expression on Four and Zeke's faces.

"What?" Tris asks.

"You're supposed to smell it first and taste a little," Four explains. "Not guzzle it down like Diet Coke."

"Tastes good to me," she says.

Zeke shrugs and does the same to his glass of fancy wine. In a bad British accent, he says, "Me too. It's just spiffing. Lovely drop."

The waiter looks on, horrified, but pours another glass for her and Zeke before scurrying off to attend to more reasonable tables. "Poor guy is probably over in the corner hyperventilating," Four says, laughing. This wine is 300 bucks a bottle, and you know how seriously the French take their wine."

"It all drinks the same," Zeke says.

The food comes shortly after, and the wine flows. Four and Zeke banter good-naturedly like the old friends they are, and she thinks back to when Four used to hang out with Calen at their place when they were younger. This reminds her of him then, carefree and happy, and it makes her smile to remember those times, how he used to be then. She feels like that same teen-aged girl with a crush as she watches him smile and laugh, tiny wings fluttering in her belly. Unfortunately, the night has to come to an end at some point, and they stagger out of the restaurant, all having had maybe one or two more glasses of fancy wine than was strictly necessary.

She feels warm and fuzzy and happy on Four's arm. It's been a really good night.

Zeke hugs her suddenly and says to them both, "Have a good rest of the night you two."

****************PAGEBREAK*****************

Four POV

Damn it, Zeke.

Could he have been any more obvious? Tris was standing right there, and his comment wasn't exactly subtle, so he's guessing she picked up on it. They're sitting in the car now, and he hopes what he said isn't going to ruin what's been a really great night. Four glances a sideward at Tris, trying to gauge her mood. She catches her looking and smiles, rosy-faced and content after the awesome food and wine.

That dress she's wearing . . . damn. He still can't get over how gorgeous she looks tonight, and she doesn't even really seem to realize it.

Even with her stunning looks, she's still this real, down-to-earth girl. She cracks her silly jokes, and it only makes her all the more alluring. Tris is something special, and he's finding it really difficult to reconcile this beautiful woman sitting next to him with the dorky, awkward girl who used to tag along whenever he hung out with her brother.

Zeke might be an asshole, but he's got something right. He feels something for Tris, something genuine, and he has no idea what to do with it. That's one of the reasons why his original plan was to send her home right away this morning—he doesn't trust himself around her. But she batted those eyelashes at him, and he was putty. His impulsive move to have her pretend to be his fiancée isn't making matters any easier.

But she's still Caleb's little kid sister and his employee, no matter what else happens. So he needs to tread really carefully. He turns to Tris. "I just want to thank you again," he tells her. "You know, for coming all this way and saving my forgetful ass. We couldn't have done the deal without you, and I really mean that."

She blushes, and it drives him wild.

"Don't mention it," she says. "I'm actually really enjoying myself. I've had a great time here . . ."

He could be wrong, but . . . the tone of her voice and the way she's looking at him through lowered eyes tells him she's not just talking about the sightseeing.

 _Fuck, why do I want her so much? Why can't I fall for someone I can actually have?_

They arrive at the hotel, and he quickly pays for the car, before leading Tris into the lobby. "So, do you still watch football?" Four asks as they approach the row of elevators.

"No, not really," she says, looking a little caught off guard by the question. "I catch the results on TV sometimes, but I don't think I've actually sat down and watched a game in years."

"Really? You never used to miss a game. You used to love it." He steps inside the elevator and press a button to keeps the door open for her.

"Yeah, well, I uh . . ." Tris blushes again, casting her gaze down to the floor as she enters the elevator. "That could have been because I was just looking for an excuse to spend time with you. Maybe."

"All those games you sat and watched with us, and you didn't even like football?"

She laughs. "Teen crushes are quite a thing."

He doesn't know why he's surprised that she's just saying that so casually. This is the first time they've broached the subject of her little teenage crush on him. Four glances at her as they walk side by side down the hotel hallway, wondering if there's any trace of that crush left. Outside her room, Tris cracks open the door and turns to face him. "So . . . what are we doing tomorrow?"

"Back to Denver. Fun's over, unfortunately."

 _But I wish it wasn't, at least for tonight. Damn. You look so good, standing there._

She sighs. "I was worried you were going to say that. But I guess it couldn't last forever. Well, goodnight, I guess. See you in the morning." She turns to enter the room, and for a moment it seems like that's it.

But then something comes over him.

Maybe it's her little confession, or maybe it's the rush from having closed this major deal, or maybe it's just that his hunger for Tris has been building up, up, up for weeks now, and he can no longer keep it dammed up. It's like something or someone has taken control of his body. He just can't help himself.

He leans forward, grab her by the shoulders, and pulls her into a kiss. He's half expecting her to push him away, but she doesn't. At all. She kisses him right back, her soft, wet lips pressed hard against him, her tongue darting out and caressing his. He groans in the back of his throat. His cock stirs as she presses her body up against him, her soft curves molding perfectly against him.

They walk into her room, lips still locked together, and he kicks the door closed behind him. He throws his jacket off as they stumble to the bed, his arms beneath her back to soften her fall. She looks up at him with those beautiful eyes of hers, lips parted sensually, legs spread just a little.

 _Holy shit. I want her. I need her._

Whatever part of his mind that was telling him before about not pursuing this is pushed to one side by pure animal lust, by his overpowering desire for Tris.

She's no longer his assistant or even Caleb's little sister. She's his _._

Getting up on top of her, he leans down to kiss her once more. Her hands come up around him, pulling him down onto her. He breathes deep, filling his airways with her intoxicating scent. His cock is raging hard now, straining against the confines of his clothing, and she notices. She pushes her hips upwards, grinding herself against him, and fuck, it feels so good.

His hands are everywhere, exploring her perfect body, the soft expanse of her skin. He slips one hand under her dress, his erection growing even harder as his hand reaches her breasts. Pulling the top of her bra cup down, he finds the engorged nub of her nipple. She moans as he runs his finger around its edge, panting as she presses herself up against him.

He's lost, completely lost in her, and he doesn't want to find himself again . . .

****************PAGEBREAK************

Tris **POV**

Oh my God.

It's happening.

It's happening, and it's everything she dreamed of.

Four's hard body against his, his musky scent filling her nostrils, his lips pressed against hers. His hands are everywhere, and every little touch crackles with energy and passion. She can feel his hard, throbbing erection through his pants, and she wants him more than she's ever wanted anything or anyone. She arches her hips upwards, feeling her wetness already seeping through her underwear, aching to feel him inside her . . .

All her daydreams, all her dirty teenage fantasies, and they're all coming true, right here, right now.

His hand slips underneath her dress, and she gasps as his exploring fingers find her sensitive, hardened nipple. He tweaks it gently, sending a wave of pleasure through her, starting from her core and spreading outwards to the tips of her fingers and toes.

"That feels so good . . ." Tris moans.

"You like that?" he growls, pinning her wrists above her head. "I thought you would."

He kisses her throat and she squirms under his grip. He's strong, and she's completely at his mercy.

"Four," she gasps. She's about to beg him for more, but then there's a loud, insistent knock at the door. They both pause for a second, Four glancing over his shoulder.

"Probably just maid service or something," Four says before he dips his head back down again, kissing his way down her body, and . . .

The knocking comes again, louder this time, and it doesn't stop. If anything it grows louder by the second.

Four glances down for a second at his very obvious and prominent erection, and she can't help but laugh.

"Stay here," she says. "I'll deal with it."

She makes sure her dress is at least somewhat back to normal—no boobs or butt showing. Then, she opens the door. There's a man and woman standing there like they've just been out to dinner. She's younger than him, and they're both pretty drunk. They're pawing at each other as they stand there in the corridor, ignoring her until she clears her throat.

"Can I help you?" Tris asks, firmly and loudly.

They look up, and yep, they're both completely wasted. The guy stares blearily at the room number, and looks surprised.

"Oh, shorry," he slurs. "We got the wrong room. C'mon Chloe, my room is jusht down here a little."

She giggles and follows him dutifully down the corridor. The two of them are quite a sight, stumbling and slurring their way along. It would be funny if it wasn't kind of sad. She's just about to close the door and go back when she sees them stop. They're still within hearing distance, and the guy is so drunk anyway that he's practically shouting.

"Listen, Chloe, we gotta keep this . . . keep this quiet, okay? You can't tell anyone. If my wife finds out I'm messing around with my assishtant, there'll be hell to pay."

The woman bobs her head, barely even sober enough to comprehend what he's saying, and then they both carry on their walk-slash-stagger down the hall. For a few moments, Tris stands there in the doorway, startled. Her blood runs cold.

 _Is . . . is that what she and Four look like? The big-shot businessman and his little bit on the side?_

She suddenly feels a little queasy. Where there had been lust and passion just a few moments before, she now only feels . . . kind of gross.

She doesn't want to be that person—the person who sleeps with their boss, the subject of office gossip. She doesn't want people to say that she's trying to sleep her way to the top, and she _really_ doesn't want things to get awkward between her and Four at work.

Maybe sometimes, teenage crushes should stay in the past where they belong. She's not that teenage dork anymore, and Four isn't the same guy either.

Things have changed. They _'ve_ changed.

She turns back to face Four. He's still on the bed, still aroused, still ready for her. But she just doesn't feel it now.

"Come back to bed," he says, his voice thick with desire.

Even after what she's just witnessed, she almost does. She almost follow his bidding . . . but shecan't.

They can't do this.

"Sorry, Four." Tris swallows. How is her mouth so dry? She forces herself to continue. "I, uh . . . I've got a headache. Maybe a little too much of that wine at the restaurant. I'm not feeling so good. I think I'm just going to get an early night."

A multitude of emotions flit across Four's gorgeous face. He looks surprised and disappointed and concerned, all at once.

"Well . . . sure, that's fine," he says. "Whatever you want. Do you want me to go get you some Tylenol or something?"

"No. No, that's sweet, but I'm fine. A good night's sleep, and I'll be right as rain."

He climbs off the bed and comes to her. "Listen, Tris, if I moved too fast there, I want to apologize. The last thing I wanted to do was make you feel uncomfortable."

She gives him a wan smile. "No, don't be silly. I was just as much in the moment as you right then. It's just . . ." She wants to tell him the truth about what she saw and how she feels, but she can't. She doesn't want him to take it the wrong way. "It's just, I feel like crap, really."

He nods, looking serious. "I understand. You get some rest, and I'll see you in the morning. If you need anything, I'm next door."

"Thanks, Four."

He leaves and closes the door quietly behind him, leaving her standing there alone. She sits heavily on the bed, wondering if she's just made the best or the worst decision of her life.

Time will tell.

She hears something vibrating. Her phone is still in her bag, which she tossed carelessly on the couch when they had stumbled into the room.

The last thing she wants to do is talk to anyone, but it could be important.

It's Caleb.

They talk for a few minutes, Caleb asking her again to come with him and his girlfriend Susan to visit her family in California for Christmas. She told him that she had made plans again. Then he asks her something she wasn't expecting...

"Has Four made a play for you?" Caleb asks.

"What? Of course not, he's been very professional," Tris says, remembering how his body felt on top of hers. His hands...

They end the conversation a few minutes later and she runs a bath. She slips into the warm bath and sighs, trying not to think about anything. She just wants to relax and forget that everything outside this bath exists. She makes the decision to steer clear of him as much as that's possible when he's her boss, just for a few days. Let things cool down a little, let him know that they can't do what they were so close to doing tonight.

She's _just_ managed to get her life back on track after the horrible break-up with Peter. The last thing she needs now is more complications, more drama. She can't jeopardize her new job and her new life by having an ill-advised fling with her boss—God, how much of a cliché would she be?

Four's her boss and nothing more.

Well, he's also her fake fiancée. But hopefully, they can get that whole mess sorted out sooner rather than later.

****************PAGEBREAK****************

Four POV

They've been back at the office for a few days now after the New York trip, and he gets the distinct impression that Tris is ignoring him. Well, maybe not ignoring him but avoiding him if at all possible. It's really bugging him. He's supposed to be chairing a meeting right now, but he's not fully here. He can't help but keep glancing at Tris, who's sitting opposite from him, dutifully taking notes.

". . . so we'll need to make sure we adhere to this two-week deadline," someone is saying. He's so bored he doesn't even look up to see who.

Tris is wearing a relatively low-cut top today—definitely still office-appropriate, but he can just catch a peek of the swell of her breasts underneath, and his eyes keep getting drawn to it. Only a few nights ago, he had his hands on those smooth, creamy, soft breasts, his fingers caressing her pink, hardened . . .

 _She's off-limits. She made that quite clear to you in New York. Stop. It ain't happening._

Four squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, trying to clear his head. He feels like a teenager again, not able to focus, hormones flooding through him. Normally, he never lets women get to him, but for some reason, Tris has wriggled her way under his skin, and he can't shake her loose.

He wants her. He wants her bad.

It was a terrible idea to kiss her on the trip—for so many reasons.

He should have known better, been better. She's his subordinate at work. She's younger than him. She's just coming out of what looks to have been a horrible relationship, and she's his friend's little sister, for fuck's sake. What on earth was he thinking?

Finally the meeting is over, he quickly heads to his office. His thoughts should be on that meeting, but they are not. They are consumed with Tris. He needs to clear the air with her. He picks up the phone and buzzes her desk. "Tris, could you come in here for a moment, please?"

She appears a few seconds later, clutching her notepad. She deposits it on his desk and then takes a hurried step back.

"There are the notes from the meeting," she says, avoiding his eyes. "And you have an appointment with Finance after lunch. They said they'll come to you."

She stands there silently after that. All of a sudden, he doesn't know what to say.

"Was there anything else?" she asks stiffly. "Otherwise, I have plenty to get on with."

"Tris, I—"

"Work stuff, Four," she says. "I meant work stuff. I don't really think now is the time or the place to talk about anything else."

"Sure." He gives her a weak smile. "That's all, then. Thanks."

She leaves as quickly as she came, closing his office door behind her.

 _Idiot. All you've done is made things awkward._

His phone rings, interrupting his little pity party. It's his Mom.

"Hi Mom," he answers. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, dear," she says in a cheerful voice. "I just wanted to call to make sure you aren't working too hard because I know you always do."

He laughs. "Mom, I'm in charge of hundreds of people. Of course I need to work hard."

"Well, maybe it's time for a break," she says, not to be deterred. "Remember at the wedding reception, I invited Tris to the lake house for Christmas next Monday? Your father and I are leaving today to go and set up thing. We're dying to get to know her. We're sure she's lovely to capture our son's heart."

"Mom, —"

She cuts him off, "Don't say no, Four. Do this for your long-suffering Mom. Hell, do it for yourself before your crow's feet get any bigger. We all need to take a break sometimes."

He could just say no, tell her about this big deal they've got going on, how it would be impossible to take any time off . . . but he could go if he wanted to. Get this current thing wrapped up by Friday afternoon and tell Zeke he needs to take a few day's personal time. He'll understand—hell, if he tells him Tris is coming, he'll shove Four out the goddamn door.

And besides, it _would_ be the perfect opportunity to spend some time with Tris, to figure things out with her.

"Okay, Mom. You've browbeaten me into it. I'll tell Zeke I need to take a few days off."

"Perfect!" Mom sounds so delighted he can practically hear her grinning. "We'll see you there on Saturday!"

She hangs up, and he sits quietly for a few seconds, wondering how he's going to broach this with Tris. She's not his greatest fan right now, and she's probably already regretting this fake fiancée stuff.

But if he can persuade her to come, it'll be perfect. Away from the office, they'll have time to get over this awkwardness between them and smooth things out. This can't hang between them forever. He can't focus on anything, and he's sure his work is suffering. It's only a matter of time before his performance is really impacted, and he can't get away with that in this job. Too many people rely on him.

And besides, it's not fair to Tris either. At the very least, even if she refuses to come to the lake house, they should have a conversation about what happened. She deserves closure and an apology too—she's obviously struggling with what happened, trying to process it. She should be able to feel comfortable at work, not stepping on eggshells every time she's near him.

But he's really hoping she'll agree to come.


	5. Chapter 5

(A/N-Thanks to all who read and reviewed, followed, and faved this story. Appreciate it all so much. And thanks to Lynn for beta reading this.)

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Tris POV

She's in Four's car, on their way out to Grand Lake, up in the mountains. She's never been, but she's heard it's stunningly beautiful up there. Already, they're making their way along winding snow-covered roads with snow all over the mountains and trees surrounding us. It's beautiful. She spends so much time in the city it's a great feeling to be able to get away from it all, even if only for one weekend.

"Thanks for agreeing to come to this thing," Four says, eyes still fixed on the road ahead. "It'll go a long way towards convincing my family we're really together. I really appreciate it. I know it must be awkward for you."

And he's right—it is. She very nearly didn't come at all.

When he asked her, she was shocked. He's not oblivious enough not to have realized that she's been doing her best to limit her interactions with him all week after what happened between them in that New York hotel room. So when he asked her to come, her first instinct was just to turn him down, tell him to forget about this whole ridiculous fake fiancée situation, and let him deal with the fallout on his own. She doesn't owe him any more than that.

But Peter's back on her case—with a vengeance. She's blocked him on all social media, blocked his number, done everything she can to deter him, but he just makes new accounts, buys new burner phones, and she's pretty sure he's been hanging around outside her apartment. The very thought of it sends chills down her spine; he's not that stable at the best of times, but he's really taken the craziness up a few notches recently. It's not yet to the point that she's fearing for her safety, but she just can't deal with his bullshit right now.

So a trip up into the mountains to get away from all that crap actually sounded quite good. Maybe if Peter sees that she's moved on, truly moved on, it might motivate him to leave her the hell alone.

They've been driving for a couple hours now in almost total silence, and instead of staring out of the window and drumming her fingers on the dash, she decides to talk to him.

"So what happened with your ex?" Tris asks.

He looks surprised and glances sideward at her. "Huh?"

"Your ex. You told me before that wedding party that the bride was your ex, right? What happened with her?"

He's silent for a few moments, debating how much to tell her, probably. "We dated for a couple of years. We were in love, planning to get married, kids, the whole nine yards. And then I came home early from work one day and found her in bed with another guy. My cousin."

"Ouch," she says. "That's kind of . . . well, not kind of, that's _really_ gross."

Four's eyes remain on the winding road, but his expression is strained as if the memory of the event still haunts him.

"Tell me about it," he sighs. "Turns out she'd been putting on a front for me the whole relationship. The woman I thought I loved? She didn't exist at all. The real Nina was a manipulative liar, willing to do anything to get what she wanted."

She grimaces. "So what did you do? Did you kick his ass?"

He gives her a quick look. "No, I didn't. He's my cousin."

"But . . . he was fucking your fiancée. That's as good of grounds as any for an ass-whooping."

He laughs, easing some of the tension. "Yeah, you're probably right. But nah, the two of them just scurried out like rats, and I pretty much hadn't seen her since, until the other night."

"Damn," she says. "That's cold. Of her, I mean. No apology?"

"Nope. Nina isn't really the apologizing type."

"Sounds like you dodged a bullet to me," she says. "She sounds like a piece of work."

"That she is," he says. "And ever since, I've had trust issues, if you'd believe that." He smiles a thin smile. "I've just been burying myself in work, and I guess at least that has paid off. It's been hard for me to feel anything for any woman since, except . . ." Four trails off, then casts a glance at her.

She feels her face redden, and she turns her gaze outside at the trees flying past. _Is he talking about me? About us?_

Four coughs. "Well, anyway, I try to be completely honest with anyone I do meet. That means my relationships, if you could even call them that, tend to be short-lived. Most women run a mile when they ask you where the relationship is going and all you can reply with is something along the lines of 'I don't know, but I don't feel like making a commitment right now.'"

She can't help but feel a little bad for him and angry at his ex for putting him through that.

"But that's _my_ history," he says after some silence. "What about you? What's the deal with that Peter asshole who keeps following you around?"

Tris takes a deep breath. "Oh, boy. Are you sure you want to go into that? It's hardly Romeo and Juliet."

"Awww . . . come on," he says. "I shared. And besides, I've already punched the guy in the face once. Don't I deserve to know a little more about him?"

"Yeah, I suppose you do." she giggles. "Well, Peter was my first serious relationship. I met him at college, a little while after I gave up any hope that you'd ever look at me again."

Four looks uncomfortable at that comment, but she presses on.

"There were a ton of red flags, even right from the start, but I guess I was too young and inexperienced to recognize them. He wouldn't let me go out on my own, he alienated all my friends, and he constantly checked up on me, even if I was just going to class or something.

"And when I did something he didn't like, he would fly into a rage. He put more than a few holes into the walls of our shared apartment when we lived together, he had the worst road rage and would drive dangerously, especially if we were fighting . . . and it seemed like we were always fighting."

"Okay," Four says. "I have been feeling kind of guilty that I socked him, but I definitely don't know. Asshole deserves everything he gets."

"Yup," she replies. "Every single thing. Anyway, eventually I sort of came up for air and realized just how much of a toxic asshole he was. But I was embarrassed that I had actually let things get to that point, you know? I didn't want to tell anyone because I was so ashamed of myself.

"But eventually things got so bad that I told Caleb about it. He was actually surprised, if you can believe that. Peter was a master at appearing like this quiet, dutiful boyfriend whenever we were around other people. Talk about Jekyll and Hyde. Dude's a fucking psycho. Caleb came around, got me out of there, and Peter's been wanting me back ever since."

"So now you're all caught up. After that, you got him kicked out of the lobby and then you punched him in the face. Thanks for that, by the way. It was awesome."

They laugh and keep chatting effortlessly as the car glides up and down meandering mountain roads.

"Look," Four says, pointing at a sign by the side of the road. "Just a few more miles now. You looking forward to it?"

 _I wasn't. But . . . I am now_

They pull up to the cabin a few minutes later, and it's exactly as beautiful as she' been imagining it in her mind. A cosy wooden house, right near the shore of the lake, with the mountains as a backdrop. The cabin has lights all over it, around the railing and there was a Christmas tree on the porch and one she could see from the outside in the living room.

She stands for a few moments and take it all in. It's amazing.

"Wow," she sighs. "It's like something out of a magazine."

Four grins. "It's great, huh? It's been in our family for a long time. We used to spend every summer here."

"Yeah, I remember your Dad's stories from the wedding party," she teases him.

"Let's go and say hi," Four coughs, swiftly changing the subject.

They let themselves in. Four's Mom and Dad are already there, and they greet them enthusiastically.

"Tris!" Evelyn exclaims, pulling her into a bear hug. "I'm so glad you came."

His dad kisses her on the cheek. "It's just going to be the four of us this weekend. We didn't invite anyone else so we can take some time to get to know you, Tris."

"Oh, wow. Thank you for setting aside your holiday time just for me," Tris says, smiling nervously.

"No problem at all," he says. "We're so glad you're here."

Guilt creeps into her chest, reminding me _I'm lying to these nice people_.

She glances at Four, who gives her a smile.

"Stop scaring her, you two." He takes her hand, which doesn't exactly help with her nerves. Tugging her away from his parents, he says, "Come on, Tris. Let me show you this place."

Four gives her a little tour of the house. It's all exposed wooden beams and antiques, compact and cosy and wonderful, and she feels immediately at home.

"Thanks for bringing me up here," she tells him. "I love it."

They head back to the den, and there's a wonderful smell wafting out from the kitchen. Four sniffs the air like a bloodhound. "Is that pot roast I smell?" he asks hungrily.

"Yes it is," his Mom says, smiling. "I know how much you love it, sweetie."

"My mom makes the most amazing pot roast," he tells her. "No matter how many fancy restaurants I eat in, nothing compares. Hope you're hungry."

Her stomach growls, and everyone laughs.

"I could eat," Tris says, blushing.

"No need to blush," Marcus says. "We like people who eat properly in this house. Luckily, we've never had any issue with Four. Boy's always eaten like a horse."

They go into the dining room, still chatting and laughing, and sit down to an absolutely delicious meal. It's seriously amazing. Four's Mom is a talented cook and she beams with pride when Tris tells her so.

The conversation and the wine flows, and she feels . . . at home. Like she belongs here.

She can't remember the last time she felt so at ease, what with work, Peter making her life hell, everything. Here, she can just sit back and be herself, without a care in the world.

Well, mostly herself. She's still pretending to be engaged to her boss, after all.

*************PAGEBREAK************

Tris POV

After dinner, they are sitting in the living room visiting with his parents. Four is sitting beside her with his arm on the back of the couch. The evening is perfect when Evelyn says, "We're turning in for the night," she says. "There are fresh sheets and blankets on your bed. Good night, sleep tight!"

She comes to a sudden realization . . . she said _bed_ —as in, singular. So . . . she and Four are sharing a bedroom. Of course they think they're engaged. Judging by how Four's been acting, though, she's sure he'll be the perfect gentleman and offer to sleep on a couch or something.

Still, the thought sends a little quiver of excitement through her.

************PAGEBREAK************

Four POV

Tris tenses up beside him as him Mom mentions the sleeping arrangements. He sits for a while, wondering what to do. Should he offer to sleep on the couch, to make things less awkward?

The last thing he wants to do now is scare her away after he's made this much progress getting her to relax and feel comfortable around him again.

"You want me to sleep on the couch?" Four asks, breaking the silence. "I can simply tell my mom and dad that we had a little fight or something. They won't suspect anything."

Tris doesn't answer for a little while, and he's just about to ask again when she turns to him."No, it's okay, you don't need to do that," she says softly.

His heart beats a little faster in his chest at her words. "Are you sure? Because it's no big deal, really. All you need to do is tell me, and I'll understand."

Another pause but much shorter this time. "I'm sure."

"Okay . . . I'm not going to say no to that."

She blushes, and his breath catches in his throat as he realizes that she wants the same thing he does. They are in the bedroom seconds later, he leans into her and pulls her into a kiss, pressing his lips against hers. She responds to him, kissing him back and wrapping her arms around his neck, running her fingers through his hair. He pulls away and stare into her eyes, his hands on her silky hair. "I've been wanting to do that all week. God, you don't know how bad."

"Me too," she whispers. "I've been trying to tell myself that I didn't . . . but it's a lie."

"I can't stop thinking about what happened between us in the hotel."

"I have been too," she says. "I'm sorry I kicked you out like that."

"You didn't really have a headache?" he asks in a teasing tone, cocking an eyebrow.

Tris smiles. "No. I just . . . I don't know. I got scared."

"Don't apologize," he says. "We were both drunk. I wouldn't want you to do anything you regret."

"So, that night . . . I . . ." she trails off, biting her bottom lip. Obviously, she's conflicted. And all he wants to do is kiss her again. Take those lips and nibble on them himself.

"You don't have to explain," he says.

"No, I do." She takes a deep breath. "I . . . It was a business trip, right?"

"Yeah."

"And we were supposed to be there on business. As colleagues."

"Yeah."

"It just felt like . . . You were my boss you know? And I was your assistant. And it just felt wrong. Sleazy. Cheap."

Four strokes her hair, desperate to make her feel better. "You know that's not how I think about you, right? You're not just my assistant. I don't want you to feel like I'm taking advantage of you because you work for me."

Tris nods and gives her a small smile.

"If you feel like I'm taking advantage of my position, let me know, and I'll back off. I promise you it won't affect your job or anything. This is not . . . about that."

"I know," she says. "I know that now."

"There's something here. Something real. You feel that too, don't you?" Four asks, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Yes," she says, to his relief.

He levels her gaze at her. "You said you got scared. Are you still scared tonight?"

She shakes her head.

"Because we could take this as slow as you need," he promises.

She says nothing. Instead, she leans forward and plants a soft kiss on him, wrapping her arms around him. She pulls back just enough to speak, her breath falling on my lips. "I know. Don't worry."

"I don't want you to do anything you regret," he says, stopping himself from claiming her mouth when their lips graze against each other.

"I wouldn't regret doing anything with you," she says into his mouth.

"Careful," he says. "You don't know what I have in mind."

A small giggle escapes her lips, and he can't stand just how adorable she is anymore, how irresistible. He tilts her head back a little, exposing the soft, creamy skin of her neck. She moans as he nibbles lightly on her sensitive skin, shivering as his fingers brush against the swell of her breasts through the sweater she's wearing.

She comes alive under his touch. She's radiating warmth, and little mewling sounds of pleasure emanate from between her lips with every little contact. He talks to her between kisses. "To be perfectly honest, I've been wanting to do a lot of things to you all week."

She moans at his words, arching her back, and pressing herself further into him. She gasps as his fingers unclasp her bra. Her hand is pressed against his chest. She runs it down his body now, to his stomach and then down to his thigh. His cock swells in anticipation of her touch. She arches her back as he traces circles around her stiff, engorged nipples, and then groans, long and low, as he tweaks them gently.

"Why don't you show me?" she says, her breathing heavy. Her exploring fingers find his already-hard cock, and she moans again as she starts to rub him through his pants. "I want you to show me, Four."

"More than happy to," he growls in the back of his throat. Her hand is clasped around his hard shaft now, massaging him through him pants. "I can't wait to get these pants off. But first . . ."

He pushes her gently back so that she's laying down, looking up at him with those big beautiful, doe eyes of hers. She looks so vulnerable, so innocent, so goddamn sexy. He pulls her sweater and blouse off, and then dips his head down, taking each of her nipples in his lips in turn, sucking and licking and nibbling as she moans and writhes under him. Her chest heaves as she pants in delight, her hips arching upwards as if she's desperate for him to have her.

But not yet. He's going to make her wait.

He gives her one more lingering kiss on the lips, and then start to make his meandering way down her body—her neck, her chest, her stomach, her thighs. His kisses start gentle but get more urgent the lower he goes. He's eager to taste her, to have her, to make her his. She's only wearing her jeans now, and he yanks them off, along with her panties, throwing them to one side. She's completely naked, completely exposed, completely at his mercy.

"I've been fantasizing about what you keep hidden behind those work clothes," he says, his voice thick with need.

"I hope I'm meeting expectations," she says with a coy smile. And there's that little, enticing lip-bite again.

"The real thing is better than any fantasy I could have possibly come up with." Four kneels between her legs and spread them wide. He can see her glistening folds in the moonlight. She's already so wet for him, and they're only getting started.

The sight spurs him on, and he growls again in the back of his throat as he leans down and puts his tongue to her slick, throbbing button. She cries out and entangles her fingers through his hair as he flicks his tongue against her clit, slowly at first but then faster and more insistently as her cries and moans of passion gradually make him lose control.

"Oh that feels so good, Four," she whispers. His name has never sounded so good, and she tastes amazing.

He reaches up to fondle her nipples as his tongue encircles her most sensitive area. She grinds her hips upwards into him, pulling on his hair as she whimpers and groans. He can feel her muscles start to tense, her whole body stiffening . . . then she suddenly pushes him away.

"What about your parents?"

"My parents are heavy sleepers. You'll just need to stay quiet," he says, his voice hoarse. She bites her lip and nods, watching him as he pulls off his clothes. His hard, throbbing cock springs free as he yank his boxers off.

"I've been waiting so long for this," she says, looking up at him with those beautiful eyes. "Take me, Four."

She doesn't need to ask him twice, that's for sure.

He spread her legs wide, grasping his shaft at the base. She sits up and watches as he teases her gently with the tip, rubbing himself against her entrance. Her sticky juices coat him, showing him just how ready she is for him.

"Don't make me wait," she moans. "Don't tease me anymore, Four. Please. I need you."

He guides himself into her, slowly and gently, not wanting to hurt her. Her eyes roll back into her head as he glides inside, inch by inch, until she's taken all of him. He kisses her as they make love, slowly at first, sensually, completely in tune with one another. She's panting and writhing beneath him, gripping his cock tight with the slick walls of her core. It feels so fucking good to finally have her, to be inside her, to make her his.

Tris shifts her hips, pushing him over to one side. He sees what she's trying to do and oblige, rolling over onto his back and pulling her with him. She grinds down at him, sitting on top of him, leaning forward with her hands on his chest. She looks so beautiful, framed by the bright moon coming in through the windows and his heart swells with passion as he gazes at her. She leans forward and kisses him, his cock still buried deep inside her. He twitches his muscles, his hard flesh pulsing, and she moans, closing her eyes.

"This feels amazing," she moans.

"You're amazing," Four tells her, putting his hands on her hips and moving her back and forth over him. She smiles as she moves her hips in a hypnotic rhythm. Her eyes are squeezed shut, and she bites her lip as she rides him. He reaches up and run his hands up and down her body, wanting to feel all of her.

Tris moves faster and faster now, her breath coming in hoarse gasps as their flesh comes together, again and again. He can feel his own climax building, building, and it's getting more and more difficult to hold back. He sits up while she's straddling him, her hands behind his neck her leverage to fuck him harder and faster. She's quivering now, her whole body tensing and untensing, over and over.

"I'm coming, Four," she gasps.

And then he feels it—her tight, slick core grips and pulses around his rock-hard shaft. She throws her head back and cries out—loud. He has just enough presence of mind to clamp his hand over her mouth and muffle the sound before his own orgasm overtakes him in a riot of ecstasy, a kaleidoscope of passion. They climax together, flesh against flesh, his seed spurting into her again and again until he has nothing left to give. She finishes with one last quiver before sagging forward and leaning her head against his shoulder. As he takes his hand off her mouth, she giggles.

"Sorry, I got a little carried away," she says.

"Me too." He chuckles. "You're lucky I even thought of quieting you down, or we'd probably be having an awkward discussion with my parents right around now."

"Oh my God. Don't even say that," she says. "I would literally die. I'd just jump in that lake and swim away, and you'd never see me again."

She climbs off, and they lay on the bed, side by side, as they catch their breath. A sense of pure well-being washes over him as he wraps her in his arms.

This feels right, him and Tris. It feels right to have her here, in his arms. _His_.

Neither of them talk—they don't need to. Everything's already been said.

She falls asleep almost immediately, her head resting on his chest, her arm draped over his abs. Four lays there for a little while before sleep overtakes him, wondering if they've done the right thing. If he's done the right thing.

But he knows they have. Nothing that feels as perfect as this could possibly be wrong. And its that moment when he realizes something, something that tings true to his soul, his heart.

Four Eaton is in love!

*************PAGEBREAK************

Four POV

Four wakes up as the early morning light filters through the shutters. It takes him a second to remember where he is. Tris is sleeping soundly next to him, chest rising and falling steadily. He lays there for a little while, just looking at her, remembering what happened last night. She looked so fucking sexy as she was riding him. And damn if it wasn't the best sex of his life. Everything just seemed to . . . work. No awkwardness, no nothing. Just pleasure and passion and intimacy.

He knows that he needs to be careful. She's fragile after her messy break-up. And other circumstances mean that this—them—isn't going to be easy.

 _But fuck, I want to give it a try. Give them a try._

She wakes up slowly, yawning and wiping sleep from her eyes. She smiles as she sees him.

"Good morning," she mumbles. "What time is it?"

"Early," he says with a smile. "There's something about this place that wakes you up early. Must be the mountain air or something."

She grins. "Maybe for you it's the mountain air. For me, it's that I've got to pee."

She scurries off to the bathroom, shyly attempting to cover her nakedness. He rolls out of bed and put on some clothes, the smell of coffee pulling him toward the kitchen. Mom's cooking bacon and eggs, and Dad's reading a newspaper.

"Morning," he says.

His dad peers at him over the top of the paper. "Did you sleep well?"

"I slept great," he answers with a yawn, pouring himself a mug of strong, steaming black coffee. He sits at the table and sips it, the caffeine immediately perking him up.

"Good coffee," Four murmur his appreciation. "It always tastes better when you make it, Mom."

She laughs. "You probably need it to warm you up after last night."

She throws him a meaningful glance, and he coughs, almost spitting his coffee everywhere. He decides to just not respond—his parents love to playfully tease him, but holy shit, it can get awkward. Thank God Tris isn't here yet.

Mom says with a wicked grin. "Did you get lucky, Four?"

"Would the two of you please give it a rest?" Four looks from one to the other, incredulous.

" _Honestly_. You're old, freaking fogies now. You're not supposed to . . ."

"Supposed to what?" his dad says, acting like he's offended. "Ask how you slept last night. I don't see anything wrong with that. Do _you_ Evelyn?"

She arches her eyebrows. "Not at all, Marcus."

Four throws up his hands, and they laugh at his discomfort.

Luckily, before they can sling any more zingers at him, Tris emerges from the bedroom. Her hair is all mussed up and she's wearing sweatpants and a crumpled old t-shirt, but to him she looks like the most beautiful woman in the world in that moment.

Four shoots a warning glance to his parents that says ' _no more comments about last night_ ,' and gets a wink in response from his mom, which he hopes means that she'll lay off. He doesn't want them to scare Tris away.

"Good morning, everyone," she yawns. "Is that coffee I smell? And eggs and bacon?"

"Take a seat, hon," Evelyn says. "Four, get your fiancée some coffee, would you?"

He pours her a cup. Tris smiles at him as she sips at it, closing her eyes and letting out a deep sigh of satisfaction. His Mom serves up breakfast, and they all sit around, chatting and laughing, and he takes a moment to sit back and relish the moment. He wishes that he could start his days like this, with Tris and his family by his side. Good food, good company, and a beautiful girl. What more could a man ask for?

Tris catches him looking at her and blushes.

 _Damn, every time she does that, I want her even more._

They finish up breakfast, and he decides to take Tris for a walk. The scenery is beautiful, the ground is lightly covered in snow and the tree limbs have snow slowly falling from them as if it was snowing, Four tells her stories from when he was kid.

It takes them around an hour to make a full circuit of the lake. When they get back to the cabin, Mom and Dad are sitting outside, reading in the sun. They walk out onto the back patio and Tris becomes quiet, and doesn't seem inclined to get into any conversation.

"Is everything okay?" Four asks her. "You're really quiet this morning. I'm . . . Are we moving too fast? You know, with what happened in the hotel room last weekend, I didn't want to push you or anything, get you out of your comfort zone."

She doesn't answer for a little while, deep in thought.

"I wanted to be taken seriously as this job," she eventually says, her voice soft and contemplative. "I mean . . . my brother got me the job in the first place, and now I'm sleeping with my boss? What are people going to think?" She laughs nervously.

"Screw what people think," he says. "Let them think what they like. We know the truth. You're great at your job, and I would have hired you even without Caleb sending you my way. You saw that pile of paperwork that was on my desk when you started. I'd be lost without you there."

She nods, looking a little comforted. "Yeah, I guess."

"I want you to know, Tris, that you're more than just my assistant. You're . . . well, you mean a lot to me. You're special."

She smiles. "You're special to me too."

"I really mean that. After what happened with my last relationship, I'm not someone to say it lightly."

She reaches for his hand and squeezes. He squeezes her right back. He completely understands where Tris is coming from with her concerns, and he doesn't want them to become a topic of gossip in the office either. They need to keep things discreet between them at work. He tells himself to take things slowly. There's no need to rush into this. Just let it play out naturally. Their feelings for each other are real, and this weird fake engagement is turning out to be so much more.

Tris tells him she has to go in and talk to Caleb for a second to see how Christmas at Susan's is going. As she walks away he checks out her adorable backside. Just then his phone vibrates. His heart sinks as he sees who the text is from.

Nina.

 _Hey, Four. I heard you took your girlfriend away to the lake house with your parents. Moving a little fast there, don't you think? Anyway, I hope you had a lovely time. Nina x x x_

He puts the phone back into his pocket with disgust. He does _not_ have time for Nina's bullshit right now.

The rest of the weekend passes perfectly. His parents are totally taken with Tris, he can tell. Especially his mom. On Christmas Eve night, they are sitting by the tree watching It's A Wonderful Life, when out of the blue good old Evelyn Eaton asks, "So, how long do you think it will be before you make me a grandmother Tris?"

Four chokes on his popcorn as Tris manages to say. "Not sure. We haven't really talked about it much."

"Mother," Four says once he composes himself.

"What? I'm just anxious to see a son or daughter from you two. You're such a lovely couple and I know any child of you two will be gorgeous." Evelyn says.

"Mother, don't pressure us about this. When, or if we decide to have kids, it will be our decision," Four says. But in that split second he has before they all turn back to the movie, in his mind he pictures a little image of himself playing in this very cabin, falling asleep in his mother's arms...Tris' arms.

**************PAGEBREAK*********

Christmas morning passed with Four giving Tris a charm bracelet with a cup of coffee on it. She smiled at his meaning for that. She gave him a brand new shirt and cuff links with coffee cups on them. He laughed at her expression as he opened it.

Before they knew it, they were heading back to the city. Back to reality. Once back at work they had to be careful and not act like they wanted to. But once away from work, they are themselves, Tris often spends the night at his home with him waking up in the morning to her beautiful face. One morning while he's still in bed, Tris is in the shower, his phone vibrates.

His mood turns as he sees who the new text is from.

It's Nina, yet again.

 _Why haven't you texted me back, Four? I'm a member of your family now, remember? It's not polite to ignore your relatives._

"Fuck off," he says to the screen. "Jesus Christ . . ."

He has no idea what her game is, but it's not going to wash with him. He's had enough of Nina's mind games for one lifetime, and there is no way he's getting sucked back into all of that bullshit.


	6. Chapter 6

(A/N-Thanks to all who read and reviewed, followed, and faved this story. Appreciate it all so much. And thanks to Lynn for beta reading this.)

* * *

Four POV

One day at work Four can't handle it anymore and he calls Tris into his office, she follow and when he finally gets the door closed behind them and the blinds drawn, he lets out a sigh of relief and pulls her into his arms.

"Fuck, it's stifling having to keep this hidden from everyone," he says with a sigh. "When can we let them know?"

"Not yet," she says, concern etched on her face. "I'm still the new girl, still getting to know everyone. I could do without the 'office slut' stamp."

"If you say so. But remember that I can fire anyone I like, being the boss and all. If anyone's saying gross shit like that to you, just tell me."

"Come on, Four, don't be naive. They're not going to say it to my face, are they? Just to each other, behind my back."

"I would never do anything to hurt you, or jeopardize what we have together. I promise you that, Tris."

She wraps her arms around him and looks up at him with those beautiful, big eyes of hers. Four feels his heart swell.

"I know that, Four. I'm not that kind of person, to play with someone's heart and feelings. What we have together is real."

He leans down and kisses her softly and slowly they melt into each other. Later, he's taking her out for lunch. "Are you cold?" Four wraps a strong arm around her shoulders. "We're almost there. It should be warmer inside."

"No."

"You're perfect," he says. Seconds later they are inside the restaurant. As soon as they're seated, Four orders some wine then reaches across the table and takes her hand.

"Uh, I'm going to need my hand to flip the pages,"she informs him, gesturing at the fancy menu with the gold lettering on the leather cover.

"But I need it more." Four lifts her hand up and kisses her knuckles.

She rolls her eyes, but a smile tugs the corners of her lips up. With one hand, she opens the menu. "Fine."

"I spent an entire night wishing you were in bed with me, plus an entire day at the office stopping myself from touching you. How long has that menu waited for you? Obviously, I deserve you more," he says.

She laughs. "See, as far as I remember, you kept calling me into your office to touch me and distract me from taking care of all the filing that needed to be done."

"I'm concerned about your memory," he says, putting on a worried face. "I didn't get nearly enough of you."

"Okay." Tris laughs and scans the menu, her hand reaching for the wine glass.

"I've got to make sure I get to touch you any time I need to. It's time to set a wedding date, don't you think? We've been engaged long enough."

She almost chokes on the wine. "Oh my God, Four. Don't do that!"

"What? My parents have been asking."

"Yeah, your parents also have no idea that we're not really engaged."

"Maybe we should be." Four cocks her a crooked smile

"You're not going to propose to me while I'm choking on wine," Tris says.

"Well, you're not choking on wine right now . . . so what do you say?"

She narrows her eyes at Four. "You're not serious, are you?"

"I can be," he answers quickly. "I already have a ring, remember?"

"Yeah. The ring you bought specifically to fool your ex and your entire family into thinking you had a fiancée. It's a ring of lies."

Four smiles. "So what you're saying is, you want a new ring. Got it."

"Are you ready to order?" Tris asks.

"Sure."

So they order theyr dinner, eat delicious food, drink fancy wine without choking on it, and the conversation flows. They're flirting and laughing like they normally do. Business as usual.

Four has to ask himself if they were moving too soon? No. He knows what he wants, it sitting across from him, was in front of him as a teen.

As they finish their food, and he orders more wine, Tris protests, "Are you trying to get me drunk and take advantage of me?"

"Yes," he says, his eyes gleaming with obvious desire. He's leaning forward in his chair now, their hands intertwined on the soft, white tablecloth. She laughs as the waiter refills their glasses. When she tries to reach for the drink, Four doesn't let go of her hands.

"I kind of need at least one of my hands if you want me to drink more," she says.

"Sure," he says, "but you'll have to take off your panties."

"What?" she casts a glance around them. "Here?"

Four nods. Raising an eyebrow, he says, "I dare you."

**********PAGEBREAK***********

Tris POV

It's a busy night at the restaurant, and there's a bunch of people dining around them, but that means all the staff is busy. As for the diners, they're absorbed in their own food and conversations to pay them any attention. The tablecloth is long enough to cover her legs.

"What do you say?" Four asks, smiling. He's obviously noticed her giving his little dare some serious consideration.

"Sure," she says, shooting him a flirty smile. "Why not? You only live once, right?"

Four's eyes flash with excitement. "Exactly."

Slowly, he lets go of her right hand, his gaze riveted on her. The lust in his eyes is so obvious she worries it's going to give them away, but it also spurs her on. She reaches her hand under the table and thanks her lucky stars she's wearing the flared skirt instead of the pencil skirt tonight. Her heart hammers as she hooks her fingers under the waistband of her lace panties and pulls them down to her knees. Once they're there, she rubs her legs together until they're bunched up around one ankle.

"Done," she declares.

"Really?" Four's smile widens into a grin. He's holding her left hand tighter, looking like he's about to bend her over the table and take her right here, right now.

"I wouldn't lie to you."

"Give them to me. Your panties," he demands.

Slipping off her shoe, she drags her foot up Four's leg, resting it on his chair between his knees. A deep sound comes from the back of Four's throat when he sees the panties wrapped around her ankle and takes them off. The excitement of doing this in the middle of a busy restaurant makes her core clench. She can't wait to get home and get Four into bed.

Apparently, he can't wait either. Because when she's in the restroom, there's a knock on the door. And when she informs whoever's knocking that the restroom is occupied, she hears Four's voice.

"I know," he says in a low, urgent voice. "I know you're in there. Open up."

"Four?"

"Yeah. Quick, open up," he repeats. "Before someone comes."

As soon as she cracks the door open, Four rushes in and shuts it behind him. He stares intensely into her eyes as he locks the door with a click.

"What are you doing in here?" she asks, even though she knows exactly why he's here. Her whole body is already reacting to his presence, her heart beating rapidly and her breaths growing deeper.

"We don't have much time," Four says, ignoring her question. He grabs her ass and lifts her up, and she wraps her legs around him instinctively. She can feel him under his pants. He's already hard. Four kisses her, hard, as he puts her down on the vanity, the cold marble penetrating through her skirt. He pulls back just enough to say, "I need you. Now."

Her hands are already working on his zipper. Electricity runs through her whole body, her need for him driving her forward despite how crazy this is.

"You're wet," Four growls when he feels her core.

"I need you too," she whispers.

She guides Four inside her, letting him fill her up with his thick cock—it's already pulsing with desire for her. Wrapping her arms around him, tangling her fingers in his hair, she bites her bottom lip to stop herself from moaning as Four fucks her right there on the vanity—hard, fast, and desperate. His hands grab her ass, pulling her against him as he thrusts into her, again and again.

"Oh, Four. Yes," she whispers. "Yes, yes, yes."

Four presses the pad of his finger against her clit, rubbing her furiously, making her explode around his cock. And then he lets go, pumping inside her one last time with a low grunt, his fingers digging into her ass cheeks. Four cleans himself up and slips out of the restroom, telling her to wait one minute before leaving, herself. "And we'll do it again tonight, properly."

Tris catches her breath and fixes her makeup, grinning from ear to ear as she realizes her whole face is flushed red. Maybe it's the orgasm talking, or maybe it's the wine, but if Four comes to her with another proposal, ring or no ring, she's saying yes. _Yes, yes, yes._

************PAGEBREAK***************

Tris POV

She's still smiling to herself the next day at just how naughty they were in that restaurant last night. She never thought sex in a public restroom could be sexy, but the sheer forbidden naughtiness of it has gotten her all riled up.

It's hard as hell to keep her hands off Four at work today, but she just about manages. He's a little distracted anyway—he's got his business face on for a meeting he has this afternoon.

"You're meeting the execs in the Lindland Hotel restaurant at 12:30," she tells him, straightening his tie. "It's scheduled for ninety minutes, but I've cleared your schedule for the rest of the day in case you run over."

Four smiles at her. "Thanks."

She uses the time to run a few errands. Once Four's gone, she collects some important priority mail and makes her way down onto the street, all the while fantasizing about last night. That one's going to live in her memory for a long time . . .

She's so wrapped up in her thoughts that she hadn't noticed Peter following her until it's too late.

"Tris!" he shouts from behind her.

Her heart sinks.

 _Fuck off, fuck off, fuck off._

"Get lost, Peter," Tris tells him, walking a little faster. "You keep this crap up, honest to God, I will go to the police and get a restraining order against you. I should be able to live my life without watching over my shoulder for you."

He rushes around and matchesher pace. He looks absolutely awful. His skin is pale and mottled, his hair greasy and lank, but his eyes are the creepiest of all—they glisten with jealousy.

"He's been making a fool out of you," he says, his voice manic. "Just like I told you he would. But you wouldn't listen, would you?"

She picks up her pace a little, setting her jaw, determined not to rise to the bait.

"Look at these," he rasps. "Look!"

He shoves a cell phone in her face, and there's nothing sh can do except see the images on them.

Images of Four and Nina. Peter's scrolling through them rapidly. The two of them kissing. The two of them naked, the two of them . . .

Bile rises in her throat, and she pushes Peter's hand away, knocking his phone to the ground.

 _Don't get drawn into his sick, twisted game. Those photos are from before when Four and Nina were together. Don't let Peter make you believe otherwise._

"You think I'm a stupid?" she asks Peter. "You think I'm going to take your word over Four's? You're nuts, Peter. Get lost."

He laughs, a hollow sound entirely devoid of humor—it makes her skin crawl. He's standing in front of her now, blocking her path. "I give you photographic evidence that he's a scumbag cheater, and you still don't believe me? What's it going to take, Tris?"

She pushes past him as hard as she can. "Leave me alone."

He doesn't give up. "I know exactly where Four goes for every single 'meeting,' Tris. And it's not where he _says_ he's going. Believe me."

Tris laughs contemptuously in his face. "Peter, I book every single one of those meetings. It's my freaking job. You somehow think you can get me to believe that you've got some secret, insider knowledge? Don't make me laugh. Stop being a creepy asshole, and leave me the hell alone."

He doesn't, of course—not that she expected him to. Like a dog with a goddamn bone, he just doesn't know when to quit.

"Fine," he sneers. "If you're not going to take my word for it, I'll just have to show you what Four is _really_ like."

"Are you insane?" she tells him. "You think I'm going anywhere with you? Get the hell away from me."

He grabs her by the wrist, and once again, she's shocked at how strong his grip is, despite his unhealthy, emaciated appearance. She cries out as he drags her into a quiet side street, but nobody even gives them a second glance. Fear spreads through her in a cold wave.

"I'm not going to hurt you. I promise," he says in a serious voice. "All I'm trying to do is show you the truth, to stop this asshole from breaking your heart. Come with me down here, and I will leave you alone forever. I promise. You just need to see the truth. That's all I ask."

He stares at her expectantly, and Tris can't help but feel a little pity, along with revulsion. He's really in a bad way, and he needs professional help. If she just goes along with whatever crackpot plan he has, he might listen to her. When it all turns out to be nothing, maybe he'll be receptive to getting some help.

"All right, Peter, you win. I'll come see whatever it is you want me to see. But afterwards, you will promise to leave me alone, _forever_ , and you will book an appointment to see a therapist. You need professional support. You aren't well."

"Sure, sure," he mutters, not even listening to her words. "Come on. This way. It's not far."

And so, feeling like she's making a terrible mistake, she follows him.

************PAGEBREAK*********

Four POV

Four checks his watch as he enters the lobby of Lindland Hotel, ready for a big meeting.

They're interested in acquiring a portion of this company's logistics division. It's doing well on paper but needs a little extra help with a re-shuffle and a larger client base, which is something Eaton can help with.

He's a little early for their meeting, so he walks up to the reception desk.

"Hi, I'm Four Eaton. I'm here for a meeting with Mr. Mark Casey in your restaurant, but I'm a little early. Mind if I wait here for a while?" he asks the woman sitting behind the desk, glancing down at his watch again.

"Sure thing, Mr Eaton. I'll call through to the restaurant and let them know you're here. Make yourself comfortable, sir," she says politely, gesturing to the couch off to one side.

He settles down on the couch, smoothing down his tie and suit jacket. In his mind, he goes over the details of the proposed acquisition.

 _Mark Casey thinks he's holding all the cards. He thinks he'll get me to overpay. But I'm getting pretty good at this negotiation business. I'll be the one walking away smiling, that's for damn sure._

But as he tries to focus on this very important meeting, something, or rather someone more important pops into his mind. Tris. He wants to be with her, truly with her, to tell her how he truly feels about her. He tries to think how she would react to him admitting how he feels in his heart to her.

At that moment, a figure approaches—a familiar figure. Four raises his eyes, his fears realized as he recognizes who it is.

Nina.

 _What the fuck?_

"What are you doing here?" Four asks bluntly.

"So rude," she pouts. "Not even a 'Hi Nina, how are you?'"

"What are you doing here?" He repeats his question. He's not in the mood for her games right now.

"Oh, I just happened to be in the neighborhood, Four. You know me, always about here and there," she says, a sly smile on her face, her fingers twirling her dark hair.

"Bullshit. This place isn't a five-star hotel. And I didn't see any designer stores on my way here. You followed me."

Nina sighs, tapping her lips with a finger as she looks off into the middle distance thoughtfully. "Well, what was I supposed to do? You didn't even have the manners to text me back."

"Does your husband know you're here?" he asks. "I don't think he'd be happy to know you're stalking your ex, would he?"

She grimaces, and he smiles at her reaction to his words.

"He doesn't own me, Four. I can go where I want," she hisses, waving her hand indignantly at his words.

"For Christ's sake, Nina. You've only just gotten married. To my fucking cousin. Why would you even marry the guy if you're going to pull shit like this?" He asks, trying his best to keep his voice calm in case his business client suddenly shows up—should be any minute now.

Nina pouts, looking like a schoolchild who's just been scolded by an angry teacher. "I just think it's a shame that we can't even talk anymore. We used to be so close. We used to talk all the time."

 _Yeah, well, that was before you cheated on me with my own cousin_ , Four thinks to himself. He should thank her, though, because he wouldn't want to be his cousin right now—poor idiot's stuck with her now, and Four couldn't be happier that he's with Tris.

By looking at Nina, most people would think she's in great distress. Her eyebrows are drawn together, her eyes filling with tears, her hand pressed over her temple like she's trying to massage a splitting headache away.

But he knows it's all a show, a performance. Nina is crazy and will do anything to get what she wants. It probably has something to do with her upbringing—her dad's a mobster who gives her anything she wants. That means most people let her have her way out of sheer fear of getting into trouble with her family.

She thinks he's her toy, her plaything. She was bored of him when she thought she had ruined him for other women. But now that he's happy with someone else, she's jealous.

He doesn't want this woman anywhere near him.

"Leave me alone, Nina. I don't have time for this. I'm busy." he looks past her to check if his client has arrived yet.

"Well, can't we just be friends, at least?" she purrs softly, settling down on the couch next to him, brushing his knee with a hand.

 _I can't believe she's doing this._

"What do you think you're doing?" He removes Nina's hand and tosses it onto her lap.

She stares at him, a shocked expression on her face. Really, how did she think he was going to react?

"I told you. I just want us to be friends."

"There's no chance in hell we'll ever be friends, Nina. What makes you think I'd ever want that?" Four asks, rage rising within him. "Just leave me the hell alone. Go away. Now."

"Fine," she replies tersely, half turning as if she's about to rise.

He's halfway through a relieved sigh when, suddenly, she whirls back around to face him, grabbing him and planting a kiss on him, pressing her lips hard against his. He pushes her off as suddenly as she kissed him. "What the fuck, Nina?"

Her smirk only fuels his anger. _What has she got to be so damn happy about?_

She glances toward the hotel entrance as she rises from the couch. He knows she's up to no good. He follows Nina's gaze, his heart rate rising with anxiety.

Fuck.

Four can't see her face, but it's Tris.

He recognizes the clothes she's wearing—he watched her pick them out this morning, standing in front of her open wardrobe in her underwear, fresh from the shower and looking sexy as fuck. He doesn't know if he'll get to see her like that again tomorrow morning.

Because Tris was standing just outside the big, glass panels.

She saw them. She saw Nina kiss him.

She's walking away now, her shoulders hunched and her hands at her face, like she's wiping away tears from her eyes. Four turns to face Nina, shooting her a glare. "You knew she was there didn't you?"

"Who?" she asks, craning her neck to look out the glass panels. "I don't know what you're talking about, Four."

"You fucking crazy, selfish—"

Right at that moment, Mark Casey and two of his associates walk through the door.

 _Just what he needs. A crazy stalker messing up his life, making Tris cry, right before my big meeting._

*****************PAGEBREAK*******************

Tris POV

Tris' heart stops for a moment when she sees him there, lips pressed against Nina's.

 _She can't look at this_ , she thinks to herself, turning away in disgust. Her heart is breaking, and her world is crumbling down around her. She struggles to drag air into her lungs. It's as if the air has thinned.

She needs to get out of here. Now.

She's vaguely aware of Peter's voice nearby, crowing victoriously.

"I told you!" he's saying. "You never listen to me, but I was right! I was right all along, and now you see! He's a cheating, scumbag asshole!"

Tries hurries away from the hotel entrance, blinking through her tears, struggling to find a way out of here. Peter follows her, still talking a mile a minute. She thinks she might be sick. A cab pulls up, and someone gets out. Before they have a chance to close the door behind them, she clambers in and yanks it closed behind her, locking it. Peter rushes to the window, pressing his palms against it, calling her name.

"Where to?" the cab driver asks.

"I don't care," she sobs. "Just away from here. Drive that way, and I'll tell you in a minute. Please, just go, now!"

He nods and pulls away.

Peter's still trying to follow, screaming her name, knocking on the window, but he soon fades into the background as the taxi picks up speed.

"Is everything okay?" the driver asks, concern in his voice. "Was that guy trying to hurt you?"

 _Not trying. He has hurt me, so many times._

"I'm fine," she says. "Can you just drive in circles, but stay away from that hotel? I need to make a call, and then I'll tell you where to go."

Thankfully, the driver shuts up and does as she's asked him. Her brain is still struggling to process what she saw.

 _She's a coward. She should have stayed there, should have confronted that cheating asshole. How could she have trusted him? How could she have been so stupid?_

She should be slapping Four in the face right about now, but she just can't stop crying for long enough to pull it together. He's been talking about rings, about marriage, about them, together, forever. And all the while, he was still in love with her. With Nina.

She should have listened to Caleb. She feels so stupid for just dismissing all of his concerns and warnings out of hand. All that time he spent telling her about what Four is like—why didn't she even entertain the possibility that it might've been true?

As luck would have it, her brother was calling her right then. As soon as she answers she breaks. "You were right," she sobs. "You were right about everything. I should never have brushed you off, Caleb. I'm so sorry."

"Whoa, slow down," he says. "What's going on? What happened?"

"It was Fo—" she starts, but she just can't bring herself to tell him the story. Every time she even think Four's name, that image of him kissing Nina comes back into her mind, overwhelming her with grief.

"Where are you right now?" he asks, his voice taut with anger.

"In a cab," She can hear him typing away on a keyboard in the background, keys clicking away.

"Ask the driver to take you to the airport," Caleb says firmly. "I've booked you a flight to Seattle, leaving in a couple hours. You can come stay here with me for a while. I'd come there, but I can't get the time off work."

"No, Caleb, you don't need to do that," she says, wiping away tears. "I'll be fine, I just need a bit of time to -"

"No," he cuts me off. "I already booked the ticket. Check your email inbox."

"Okay, okay. I'll come."

He's probably right. It'll do me good to get away from here and spend some time with him. All she knows is, she can't face Four yet, and she doesn't have the energy to deal with Peter's harassment right now.

A few days away to clear her head and recharge her batteries would be perfect. After that, she can come back and get everything resolved.

"Take me to the airport, please," Tris tells the driver. She can't stand to be here anymore. Every street, every building in this downtown area reminds me of Four, making her feel suffocated. "As fast as you can."

"You got it." He steps on the gas.

***************PAGEBREAK***********

Four POV

"Mr. Eaton. Let me introduce you to my colleagues. Aaron Smith and Matthew Williams," says Mark Casey, the CEO of Casey Technologies. They look at him with expectation in their eyes. He shakes their hands in a rush, exasperated already by the slow tempo of Mark Casey's speech.

"I'm so sorry, gentlemen. I've got an emergency on my hands, and we'll have to reschedule," he says, glancing out the hotel entrance.

Mark Casey is talking, but Four doesn't even care what he's saying. He can't see Tris from where he's standing, but if he runs outside now, he may be able to catch up with her and explain everything. It's not too late. He can fix this.

". . . unacceptable. My schedule is completely packed, and Aaron here flew all the way from the New York office for this meeting—"

"I'm sorry. I really have to go," he says, cutting off Mark Casey and stepping away from the men.

"Mr. Eaton!" one of the men shouts, but he's already making his way out the door. He'll deal with them later. They need this deal as much as they do. They'll reschedule if they really want to make this happen.

Besides, even if he went ahead with the meeting, he wouldn't be able to concentrate. His brain is screaming out Tris' name over and over again, overriding everything else. She's all that matters right now. He can't have her thinking he's cheating on her. He's been cheated on before, and he knows it hurts like a motherfucker. The last thing he wants to do is hurt Tris.

Every cell in his body is telling him to run to her, to pull her into his arms and tell her that he loves her, wipe away her tears and beg her not to cry.

Fuck. He made Tris cry.

"Wow." Nina's voice. He forgot about her.

 _God, hes hate her. He hates her so fucking much._

He uses his anger as fuel, running out down the hotel driveway and toward the main street. Nina's designer heels click against the asphalt, her voice shrill between gasps as she runs to keep up with him. "I can't believe you just walked away like that from a meeting. They were big shots, Four. Daddy introduced them at a party one night. And that Mark Casey is so hot."

"Leave me alone, Nina. I swear to God, I want to hit someone in the face right now."

"Ooh, threats of violence. I've got to say, you're looking kind of hot right now, Four. You're always so sexy when you're angry," Nina comments, her voice light and breezy, as if they were just having a casual conversation and she hadn't just ruined his day.

"Fuck off."

"You know, you're looking hotter and hotter by the second to me, Four. But I should tell you, that's not a very nice thing to say," Nina says—no doubt she's pouting, but he's got his eyes ahead of him, searching for Tris. He wants to blame Nina, but that was his fault too. He should've known Nina would have a surprise up her sleeve. She wouldn't have shown up out of the blue with no plan.

Fuck. Where could Tris be?

"So, it's your fiancée you're looking for, huh?" Nina asks. How does she manage to keep talking when she's obviously out of breath? "This girl must be pretty important. You used to cancel our dates whenever you were busy with work. Maybe that was why I slept with Eric. I was lonely. You know, I was hoping you'd try to stop my wedding—that would've been so dramatic. I'd tell you in front of everyone I wouldn't leave Eric, of course. But I'd still see you in secret, and we could still do stuff together. Doesn't that sound so exciting?"

His resolve not to grab Nina by the shoulders and shake her out of whatever delusional world she lives in is weakening. That's when he spots Peter, standing on the sidewalk, one arm hailing a cab to a stop.

 _Oh, no, you don't_.

He runs faster until he can't hear Nina anymore. He grabs him by the collar just as he's about to step inside the cab.

"Please don't hit me," Peter begs, his voice shaky. Fucking loser.

"Where's Tris?" Four shakes him.

"I don't know."

"You were here with her weren't you? Where did she go?" He asks.

Then, realization dawns on him. He's been wondering what Tris was doing here. She's supposed to be downtown, sending a package at the post office. Nina's here. Peter's here. He doesn't know how, but he realizes somehow their two exes are in this together.

That sounds crazy, but it's exactly the kind of thing Nina would come up with. And Peter seems desperate enough to do anything if Nina could convince him it would get Tris back into his arms.

As if he'd ever let that happen.

"Where did she go?" Four yells at Peter.

"I don't know," he repeats. Four's about to pull his fist back to hit him when he adds, "She jumped into a cab. I don't know where she was going. I was going to follow her."

Pushing Peter into the cab, he joins him on the backseat and yanks the door shut. "Where was she going? Tell the driver."

"I . . . I don't know. It took me a while to flag down a cab, and I lost sight of her," Peter says in a pathetic voice.

"I don't want any trouble," the cab driver warns. "If you guys are going to fight, don't do it in my cab. I don't want to spend half my day dealing with the cops."

"There won't be any cops. There won't be any trouble," Four says. But Peter flinches when Four speaks, and that hasn't escaped the driver's attention.

"You need to get out of my cab. Both of you. I don't want to deal with the cops, but I'll call them if you don't leave."

Fuck.

There's no point arguing with the driver, so Four rushes back to the front steps of the hotel, leaving Peter and Nina behind. He slips the valet a twenty-dollar bill and tells him to get his car right away. It still takes him way too long, though.

Sitting behind the wheel of his car, Four peels away from the hotel and darts toward the main street, ignoring Nina, who's standing barefoot by the side of the hotel driveway, her shoes dangling from her fingers as she screams out his name.

Where should he go? Where could Tris be?

He dials her number, his heart galloping. The dial tone ends with a click and for a hopeful moment he thinks she's picking up, but then he hears a robotic voice instead. "The customer you are calling is unavailable at the moment. Please try again later or leave a message after the beep."

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He heads to her apartment and buzzes her. Nothing.

Standing in front of her apartment building, he texts her.

 _Tris, please. I can explain. Please talk to me._

He paces around and keeps buzzing her apartment. Damn it, he doesn't even know if she's home. She could be anywhere. He stares at his phone, willing it to show him a text from Tris, but nothing happens—except for a text from Nina popping up. He doesn't have time to even read it.

He types another message.

Tris, there's nothing between Nina and me, I swear. It's not what you think. Please let me explain.

He dials her number again and hear the automated message. He waits for the beep.

"Tris, it's me. I know it looked bad, but it wasn't what it seemed. Please, Tris, let me explain. Nina, she forced herself on me. She planned this whole thing. She wants to destroy us. This is exactly the kind of thing she does." He realizes, even as he speaks, how lame he sounds, how crazy his explanation seems. "Please call me back, or text me. We need to talk, face to face. Let me know where you are and I'll come straight to you. Tris, I'd never hurt you. You know that, right? I love you. I really need to talk to you. So please . . . call me back."

Not knowing what else to say, he hangs up.

Fuck.

That was the lamest voicemail ever.

If he were her, Four wouldn't call me back either.

*******************PAGEBREAK*******

Tris POV

The flight is short and uneventful. She tries her best not to replay events over and over in her mind. She even manages to get an hour or so of fitful sleep. She gets a cab from the airport. By the time the sun is just setting, she's standing outside Caleb's house. The windows are dark—Caleb's not home from work yet.

She gets his extra key that he keeps hidden outside. And lets herself in. She wanders through the silent, empty house, just soaking it all in. Her stomach rumbles, and she heads into the kitchen, opening a cupboard. And there they are, just where she knew they would be. A jar of peanut butter and a bag of M&M's, exactly where they belong.

She takes them into the den with her, scooping up peanut butter straight from the jar with a tablespoon and rolling it in M&M's. Normally, this sugar binge helps her feel better on bad days. She munches as she stares at the TV. She doesn't even know what's on. It's just something to focus on, background static to drown out her noisy thoughts. It doesn't quite work, though. That mental image of Four and Nina forces itself into her mind's eye again. No matter what she does, she can't chase it away. Another teardrop trickles its way down her cheek.

She's been so dumb.

Obviously, Four was only being so nice last night in the restaurant because he was cheating on her. He thought he could have his cake and eat it too—string her along for easy sex, all the while carrying on with Nina like nothing had ever happened. The sheer arrogance astounds her. He always seemed so genuine. How much of a psycho does he have to be to be so convincing? All those times she stared into his eyes, all those things he whispered into her ear as they made love . . . and they were all lies. It's actually quite frightening, just how well he masked it all.

She turns on her phone—she switched it off for takeoff and never bothered turning it back on. She hasn't felt chatty, to say the least. There's a ton of messages, voicemails, and missed calls. All from Four. She throws the phone to one side, absolutely not interested in whatever fresh lies he's concocted.

She's surprised he's even bothering. He got what he wanted, and there are plenty more impressionable, vulnerable women out there for him to prey on. She saw what she saw with her own two eyes. What possible lies could he come up with to counteract that? She eventually drifts off to sleep on the couch, feeling thoroughly sorry for herself, the TV still blaring in the background.

She's awakened later to Caleb walking in, he sits down next to her and pulls her into a hug. She leans her head against his shoulder, taking comfort in the solidity of his presence, feeling like a little kid again. Caleb has always been there for her, ready to help her through whatever issues she faces. I

He sits patiently, waiting for her tears to stop, letting her get it all out without a word. Eventually, she stops. Her whole body is tender, but at the same time, she feels just a little bit . . . lighter, now that her brother's here. It's like she knows everything's going to be okay now. She can work through this. With her big brother by her side, nothing looks too scary.

"Okay," he says, getting up from the couch. "Now that's over with, why don't I get a couple of beers, and you can tell me exactly what happened? I mean I'm not dumb. I think I've got it figured out, but let's hear it anyway."

He brings the beers back and she takes a gulp then she starts talking, and she doesn't stop until the story is done.


	7. Chapter 7

(A/N-Thanks to all who read and reviewed, followed, and faved this story. Appreciate it all so much. And thanks to Lynn for beta reading this.)

* * *

Four POV

Was he making a big mistake?

Once again, he checks his phone. It's almost like an unpreventable tick at this point, he's been doing it so constantly since this afternoon, when Tris walked away from Lindland Hotel. She looked so dejected, even from the back. He'd hate himself forever if that was the last time he'd see her.

Nothing on his phone. No calls, no texts.

Well, nothing from Tris, anyway. He's got a couple of messages from work because he took off with no notice. And, of course, there's a ton of messages from Nina.

Fucking Nina.

Why did he ever let her into his life? He should've run like hell the moment he discovered her first lie, when she told him about a deeply spiritual trip she'd taken to Tibet.

He couldn't stand here.

She made Tris cry.

If she thinks he'd even bother to respond to her attempts to communicate, she's wrong. But he hasn't blocked her—not yet because he needs these messages as evidence. She's spinning a web so complex she won't be able to escape it herself.

First though, he needs to fix things with Tris.

Looking around, he notices there's no doorbell, so he raises his hand to the door and knock.

No answer.

It's late now—almost 2 a.m. The streets are dark. The neighbors are probably asleep.

Doubt creeps into his thoughts. He went to great lengths to book a seat on the flight to Seattle at the last minute. He doesn't care that he paid about twice what the ticket should've cost, but what if he's wrong? What if Tris' not here? What if she's back in Denver instead, crying in her apartment?

But—checking his phone again—Caleb hasn't responded to his calls and texts, which can only mean that he knows what happened. Or a version of what happened, at least. Tris' version. Which probably doesn't make him look like the best boyfriend in the world.

Knowing Caleb, he probably told his little sister to come to his side right away. He's got a high-powered job he can't leave, but he'd want to keep watch over Tris and take care of her.

"Caleb!" Four calls out.

Still nothing.

He hears some noises inside, so obviously someone's home. But that someone also obviously doesn't want to see him. He knocks harder and harder until he's pounding on the door, banging so hard he worries he's going to splinter the wood or something.

"Caleb!" he's yelling at this point. "Open the door!"

More noises from inside—feet shuffling, hopefully.

"Knock it off!" But it's not Caleb or Tris. Looking around him, Four sees few lightbulbs have flare on in the house next door as well as the house across the street. Who cares? If they call the cops, maybe Caleb will finally have to answer the door. And even if he's wrong, and Tris is not here, Caleb probably knows how to reach her.

He's the only lead Four's got, and he's not about to just walk away.

"Caleb! I know you're in there!" Four shouts. "Open the door!"

He keeps banging and shouting. The neighbors probably think Caleb owes some mobster loan shark some money, and he's the thug who's been sent to collect on his debt.

"Motherfucker," Four hears Caleb's familiar voice grumbling from inside.

Finally.

A click, and then the door cracks open. He's never been happier to see Caleb, even if he's shooting him a death glare right now. "What the fuck are you doing here?" he asks in a loud whisper, eyes frantically scanning the neighborhood. His hand is still on the doorknob, ready to shut the door in his face.

"I need to see Tris. She's here isn't she?"

"Do you know what time this is?" he asks, ignoring Four's question.

"Yeah. Late. That's why I had to knock so hard. I needed to wake you up." He gives him a small smile, hoping to melt the tension with a little joke.

"Fuck off."

Okay. He doesn't seem to be in the mood for a light-hearted chat.

"Caleb, I really need to see Tris," Four pleads, seriously this time.

"There's no chance in hell I'm going to let you see her. She's already got one crazy stalker ex. The last thing she needs is another one," he says through gritted teeth, apparently finding it a challenge to control his voice. His jaw ticked, the muscles in his neck tight.m

He's furious—with good reason if he thinks he cheated on his sister. But he's also just pretty much told him that Tris is inside. Hope sparks in his chest at the thought of Tris possibly hiding just behind the door, listening to him.

"Tris!" Four yells out, unable to contain himself.

"You fucking asshole. I told you to leave." Caleb takes one threatening step forward, joining him on the porch, pulling the door closed. Four steps back. The last thing he wants is to get into physical altercation with one of his oldest friends—over some stupid scheme Nina cooked up, no less.

"Caleb, I assume you heard about what happened from Tris. It was all a misunder—"

"Look, Four. The only reason your pretty face is still intact is because you were my friend—" Four grimaces at the past tense "—but you hurt my sister, and I'm really, really tempted to beat you to a pulp right now. I don't even care that the cops are probably going to be here soon because of all the noise you've been making."

"There's another side to the story, Caleb. You know how crazy Nina is," Four says in a voice loud enough for Tris to hear if she's listening. The neighbors can go fuck themselves. One sleepless night won't kill them.

"Yes, I know how crazy she is, and I can't believe you—" his index finger jabs Four in his chest "—would be stupid enough to fall into her trap again. I don't care what you do with your life anymore, but leave my sister out of whatever sick game you and Nina are playing."

"That's what I want to talk about." Four says. "I swear I didn't do anything with Nina. It was all staged. By her. She's insane, Caleb. Ever since she found out I had a fiancée, she—"

"Fiancée?" Caleb's forehead creases, his face turning even more ferocious. He reaches for his collar, but Four steps back just in time. "What the fuck are you talking about? You have a fiancée, _and_ you're fooling around with my sister, like she's some worthless side piece? Fuck, Four."

"No, no. You've got it all wrong." Four keeps his voice calm, reasonable, hoping his tone will be contagious enough to help Caleb simmer down. "We, uh, I took Tris to Nina's wedding and asked her to pretend to be my fiancée. It's a long story, but there's no one else, Caleb. There's no one else. I swear. Tris is the only girl I care about. I'd never hurt her. Never."

"Well, you did," Caleb snaps. "You fucking did. Fuck you, Four. I thought you were a friend. For a minute, I even entertained the idea that you might actually care about her enough to treat her right. But obviously, I was an idiot. And Tris, too. You fooled us. If you think we're just going to take your word for it that you didn't do anything with that crazy ex of yours . . ." Caleb chuckles wryly, shaking his head, not even bothering to finish his sentence. "Just go home, Four. Before I do something I regret."

"Caleb, I'm not shitting you. Nina came up with this sick plan to ambush me just before my meeting. She somehow got Peter to take Tris there, and then she kissed me, no warning. I pushed her away. I swear."

Caleb narrows his eyes at Four. "I want to believe you, Four. I do. But I also know how deeply Nina's dug her claws into you. I've always thought that you'd go crawling back to her as soon as she gave the slightest indication that she wanted you back."

"Give me some fucking credit, Caleb," Four says, raising his voice in frustration. "Tris! If you're in there, I want you to hear this. You don't have to come out or anything—I get that you're angry with me—but please hear me out."

"Shut the fuck up." Caleb shoves Four so hard he stumbles backward, not expecting him to get this aggressive.

"Hear me out, and I'll walk away after if you still want me gone." In a louder voice, he says, "Tris, I know you think you know what happened, but you don't know the full story. You don't know my side of the story."

"Shut the fuck up, Four." Caleb shoves him again, forcing him down the porch steps.

"I have proof!" Four yells out so loud even the neighbors will hear. "Tris, I can prove to you that I wasn't cheating on you!"

Caleb grabs Four by the elbow now, pulling him down the walkway. Just before he throws him out onto the street, he hears the softest click.

The door. It cracks open.

Then, a voice. The most beautiful voice he's ever heard.

"Four?" Tris calls out his name.

She looks exhausted, her eyes red and puffy. Her hair is messy.

But there's a glimmer of something in her eyes. Hope?

"Tris, thank God. I've been looking for you all day. I'm glad you're okay. I can explain everything," Four says.

All he wants to do is rush over there and comfort her. Wrap her arms around her, stroke her hair, whisper soothing words in her ear. But Caleb's still standing in front of him, blocking his path. "I've got this under control, Tris. Go back to sleep."

Tris' beautiful eyes dart between him and Caleb like she can't decide who to listen to.

**********PAGEBREAK***********

Tris POV

"Caleb, I can handle this."

Her brother stares at her like she's just sprouted an extra head. But Four . . . Four's lips curve up to form a small smile. He looks as much a mess as she probably does. Not surprising, really. They've both had a pretty eventful day. That smile on his face, though. Her heart beats faster at the sight. It makes her weak.

She knows that shouldn't just believe Four. After all,she did see him kiss his ex—his married cheater of an ex—mere hours ago. But her resolve is melting. Her brain can't compete with her heart when Four is standing here right in front of her. He flew all the way from Denver to Seattle to find her here. That has to count for something, right?

"Tris, you have no idea how happy I am to see you." Four starts to stride toward her, but Caleb holds his palm against Four's chest, saying something in a voice too low for her to make out the words.

"Caleb, I want to hear him out," Tris says.

"He's only going to mess with your head," Caleb says.

"You really think I'd do that?" Four sounds hurt. Even though her mind is telling her not to listen to him, her legs are already restless, longing to run to him, to put her hand on his face and make him feel better. She walks down the porch steps and joins the two men, putting herself between them. "Let's just talk. I don't want to see you two fight."

"That's all I want to do. Talk," Four says slowly, carefully, like he's trying not to provoke a rabid animal.

Caleb throws his hands in the air and lets out a frustrated groan.

"You said you had proof," Tris says, looking at Four.

Four slips his hand inside the pocket of his coat and pulls out his phone. He presses a button, and cool light bathes his face in a ghostly glow. He taps the screen a few times, then hands the phone over to her.

Nina Guerriero, it says at the top of the screen.

"These are . . ."

"Texts from Nina, yes," Four says.

There's a bunch of texts on one side of the screen, and nothing on the other side. Nina has been texting Four, but he hasn't been responding, she realizes. Despite his insistence that he doesn't want to hear what Four has to say, Caleb shuffles closer, standing just behind her to look at the screen.

She starts reading.

 _You're just going to walk away like that after we kissed?_ _I can't believe you just left me. You could've at least offered to give me a lift._ _You're being so rude, Four. The least you can do is apologize._ _You're angry, huh?_ _You're so hot when you're mad._ _Come on. How long are you going to sulk?_ _Four. You're being so childish. It was just a kiss._ _Four. How long are you going to ignore me? Reply already!_ _Look, I only did it because I don't think that girl is right for you. I did it for your own good._

Her eyes widen as she reads that last text. Nina admitted to having schemed the whole thing—in writing. She raise her gaze to meet Four's eyes. He's been watching her intensely, his muscles tense. He says nothing, but he raises his eyebrows as if to ask her how she feels after reading those texts.

"So you haven't been having secret meetings with Nina?" Tris asks, her quiet voice piercing the somber silence.

"No," Four answers quickly. "No way. I'd never do that. I'd never do anything to jeopardize our relationship.

"So what happened at the hotel . . ."

"She ambushed me. I didn't even know she was coming."

"And the kiss . . ."

"I had no idea she was going to do that. I was caught by surprise," Four says earnestly. "I pushed her away as soon as I recovered from the shock."

She studies Four's features. Can she trust him? She did only see a second of that kiss before she walked away—she couldn't take the sight any longer. "I swear, Tris," Four says. "I didn't go there for some secret rendezvous with Nina. I just wanted to close that deal with Casey Technologies."

She nods. They did go through Four's proposal a few times over the past week. He wanted to make sure the meeting would go smoothly.

"How did that go?" she asks.

To her surprise, Four shrugs. "We'll see what happens at the next meeting, assuming they're willing to reschedule at all. They didn't seem happy that I just left them at the lobby like that."

"You _what_?" she stares at him in disbelief. "But it was supposed to be this big meeting. You were supposed to close an important deal."

A small, tired smile plays on Four's lips. "Nothing's more important than you, Tris."

She can't help it; warmth spreads across her chest. Does he mean that? But he actually walked away from that meeting and flew all the way across the country to see her instead, not even knowing that she'd be here for sure.

"You did that for me?" she asks when she finally finds her voice.

"It was nothing," Four says, shaking his head. "I've finally realized how little it all matters without you, Tris. For the first time in my life, I've found something—someone—more meaningful than my work. You. I love you Tris."

"You mean that? You love me?" Tris asked.

"With every beat of my heart, my love for you grows," Four answers.

She does something she's been dying to do since she heard his voice calling out her name. She throws her around Four and lets him envelop her—his hands on her back, his sturdy chest for her to lean on, his lips on her head. Four fills her whole world, and she feels like she's right where she belongs.

"I've missed you so much; you have no idea." Four tightens his embrace, holding her like he's never letting her go.

"I think I have a pretty good idea. I've missed you too." She looks up to meet Four's gaze. For a moment, they look into each other's eyes, saying nothing and everything, all at once. Pure, unadulterated happiness floods her body. Four leans his forehead on hers, his nose brushing against her cheek. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, filling her lungs with Four's scent.

"I can't believe you're here," Tris whispers.

"I told you. I'd do anything for you," Four said. "And do you have anything to admit to me?"

A smile pulls her lips up. "I love you too, Four."

A soft smirk grows on his face as he leans in for a kiss...

A cough interrupts their intimate moment.

Oh, that's right—Caleb. She totally forgot he's still here. He's probably not happy that she's being an idiot.

"Uh . . ." Caleb clears his throat, fidgeting with the zipper of his hoodie. "I'll, um, give you guys some privacy."

"Does that mean you're okay with . . . everything?"

"If Four meant what he said, then I won't stand in your way."

"I meant every word," Four answers quickly.

"Good. I thought you did." Caleb takes a step toward the door then stops and faces us again. "I'm happy for you two. Really."

"That means a lot to me, man," Four says.

"And me too," Tris adds.

Caleb smiles, then he slips inside the house.

Her smile spreads into a grin. Next thing she knows, they are both laughing—she can't exactly explain why, but the sensation of tension melting away is so wonderful she doesn't even want to question it. All she knows is she's happy to have Four's arms around her again.

***********PAGEBREAK***********

Four POV

Tris' tears have dried up, her head resting contentedly on her chest. The smell of her faded perfume fills her senses, and she breathes the scent deep, relieved that Tris and Caleb listened to what he had to say, that they saw the truth.

Tris is the most important thing in her life now, and she's not going to let anything come between them—not work, not crazy exes, nothing. The chill in the night air has him concerned that Tris might be getting a little cold. He can feel her shivering a little in his arms.

As if reading his thoughts, Tris looks up at him, a shy smile on her face. "Hey, would you like to come inside? It's getting a little cold out here. I'll make us some hot chocolate."

"Sure. We can't stand out here all night. Although I'm not sure I want to let you out of my arms just yet," he replies, brushing a stray lock of her hair back over an ear. Tris takes his hand and guides him inside the house, heading straight to the kitchen. She heats up some milk in a saucepan and rummages in a cupboard.

"So . . ." She looks about the kitchen as if searching for the words. Humor gleams in her eyes. "How did you know I'd be here? I could have just been at my apartment, ignoring you."

She smiles at her words. "Well, I did try your apartment at first. But I guessed you weren't in, and then—" he shrugs his shoulders "—I just knew you'd be here. I know you, I know Caleb. Let's just call it a hunch."

"Wow, Detective Four," she teases gently, half turning to check on the milk before returning her gaze to him.

"That's me." He shoots her a grin.

A faraway look comes over her. Smiling to herself, she asks, "Hey, do you remember when we used to watch football together? Me, you and Caleb?"

"Yeah, of course. Although that seems like a long time ago now."

"Well, I never really was interested in the football. I only watched it because you were there. In fact, I spent most of the time staring at you while you and Caleb were engrossed in the game." She cocks her head and looks at him inquisitively. "You knew I had a crush on you, didn't you? That's why you never wanted to spend any time alone with me, why you were always awkward and made excuses to leave the room or be somewhere else. I always thought it was because you didn't like me, but now . . ."

He grins at her words, a little embarrassed by the truth. "Yeah, you got me. I knew you liked me. You were just . . . so young. It didn't feel right, you know. Plus, you were my best friend's little sister . . ." his voice trails off, and he looks Tris up and down, taking in her womanly figure, trying to recognize the skinny girl he once knew. "But now . . . well, look at you. You're all grown up. So damn beautiful. Now it's me who can't stop staring at you. You're so damn distracting."

She giggles a little at his words, pouring out some cocoa and bringing him over a steaming mug. She hands him the mug, their hands brushing against each other. They stand there and chat for a while, sipping on the steaming hot chocolate, talking about old times. As Tris collects the empty mug, he pulls her close and kisses her, caressing those soft, sweet lips with his.

"You should stay tonight," she whispers in his ear, voice low and filled with promise. "We can take the guest room."

"It's getting late. What are we waiting for?"

She gives him a seductive smile before turning away, hips swaying as she walks toward the stairs. He follows, eyes on her perfect butt as she climbs the stairs slowly as if teasing him. He catches up with her and grab her butt, shooting her a grin. "I couldn't resist."

Tris giggles and skips off to the doorway of the spare bedroom.

"You know," she whispers, voice low, "when you used to stay over, I'd fantasize about you coming to knock on my door in the middle of the night when Caleb was asleep, declaring your love for me, and . . . well, doing things to me I could only imagine at the time."

"Well, here I am," Four says. "There's no need for fantasies tonight."

He grabs her by the waist and pulls her into the room, closing the door behind them. He kisses her hard, claiming her sweet mouth as his. She tastes sweet, and he looses himself in her, letting her fill his senses. She moans softly as he pulls her against me, the delicious little sound urging him on. Desire rises within him, his hardened cock twitching in his pants, longing for her.

He pulls back just enough to look into her half closed eyes. Her face is flushed with passion, her heavy-lidded eyes clouded with lust. "You know I'd never cheat on you, right?" Four whispers. "I'd never do anything to hurt you. You're everything to me. I'd do anything for you."

"I know that now," she replies, smiling sweetly. "Now, stop talking and show me how much you care about me . . ."

She squeals with delight as he picks her up, her legs wrapping around his hips as he kisses her deeply, carrying her over to the bed. He whispers, "Now, tell me about these fantasies of yours."

Tris smiles, a naughty gleam in her eyes. "Well, there's one with you carrying me just like this . . . and then you throw me on the bed and have your way with me."

"Sounds doable enough."

"Is it?" she raises an eyebrow.

"Yes," He tells her, tossing her onto the bed, watching her breasts jiggle as she bounces on the mattress. He climbs up over her. "You know what else is doable?"

"Me?" Tris asks, grinning.

"That's right." Four claims her mouth in another passionate kiss, his cock throbbing almost painfully in his pants. "I'm going to replace all those silly fantasies with something real. Next time you play with yourself, you'll be thinking about this."

"Don't over promise, mister. You're sounding terribly cocky," she says, even though he can see from the fire in her eyes that his words are turning her on.

"And you like that."

"Oh, do I, now?" she challenges. She's wearing a loose T-shirt and looks unbelievably hot in it, but she'd look better with it on the floor.

"Yeah. And I can prove it." Four yanks off the T-shirt and tosses it aside, feasting his eyes on her full tits, her pink nipples already hardened into little nubs. "Hmm . . . no bra, huh?"

"I was asleep when you showed up. Nobody sleeps with a bra on," she says, reaching up and pulling him down by the neck, urging him to kiss her again.

Their lips and tongues twist together, both of them fighting for air as her delicate fingers fumble with the buttons on his shirt. He shrugs off his jacket and his unbuttoned shirt, letting them crumple behind him. "I don't know . . . I'm not convinced you weren't deliberately seducing me, tempting me with your bra-less tits. No man can possibly say no to these babies."

Tris' giggle ends with a sharp gasp when he kisses down her throat and takes her nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue and nibbling on it with his teeth. She lets out a sexy moan, the kind that goes into his ear and sends jolts of electricity straight down to his cock, making him desperate to bury myself balls-deep inside her.

"Oh, Four," she moans. His name has never sounded so good.

"Is this what you had in mind?" He asks, tasting her other nipple while his hands roam all over her body. Her breast fits perfectly in his hand—no doubt a sign that they belong together.

"Yes," she sighs.

"You haven't seen anything yet." He slips his hand inside her sweatpants and rubs her over her panties. She can already feel her slick juices through the thin fabric. "Remember when I told you I knew you liked what I was doing? This is the proof, right here. You're soaking wet, you naughty girl."

She says nothing, but she arches her back as he run his fingers over her, pressing herself against his hand, spreading her thighs a little wider. Man, he loves watching her like this.

"Remember any of your fantasies, then?" he asks.

"Stop asking me things, Four. I don't remember anything. I can't even think. You're driving me so crazy right now." He knows she's so aroused even speaking is a struggle, but he loves hearing her voice like this, breathy and hoarse and so fucking sexy.

So he asks her yet another question. "Am I living up to your fantasies?"

"Yes," she says, nodding, her eyes squeezed shut.

"Do I do this in your fantasies?" he pulls down her pants and panties, all at once. He slides his fingers over her soaked petals and finds her clit.

Her teeth clamp down on her bottom lip. She nods frantically, letting out a choked, "Yes."

Pulling his pants off, he takes his cock in one hand and pushes inside her, her eyes firmly on her beautiful face as her jaw hangs open and her eyebrows knit together. His weight is on his elbows as he thrusts into her. He can barely control the pleasure he feels building within me.

"You feel amazing," he tells her.

She bites her lips as she looks up at him, her body shuddering as her hands cling to his arms. She tries to restrain herself, but small moans escape from between her parted lips. He picks up his pace, thrusting into her again and again. Tris pulls him down against her, wrapping her arms and legs around him, biting on him shoulder.

"Four. . ." she moans.

"What's that, Tris? Are you coming? Tell me."

"Yes," she says, her breath coming in gasping hitches. "I'm coming, Four."

And then she explodes beneath him, her face scrunched up in ecstasy as she clenches around his cock, milking him for all he's worth. And he lets go, thrusting faster as his balls tighten. A powerful orgasm builds within him, his cock twitching almost painfully at the sensation.

"Fuck," he growls as he comes inside of her, their bodies pressed together.

Tris' fingernails drag across his back, digging into him almost painfully, until suddenly she grows limp, her body spent. He brushes away the hair sticking to her damp forehead. Looking into her half-lidded eyes, he asks, "Was that as good as your—"

"Yes, Four," she says, smiling as she cuts him off. "That was better than my fantasies."

"Just checking." He gives her a grin. "That's what you would've missed out on if you hadn't let me in."

Her eyes grow sober, her smile fading. "I don't want to be without you again."

"It was that good, huh?"

"I'm serious," she says.

He looks deep into her eyes and caresses her flushed cheek. "I don't want to be without you either, Tris. Ever.

*****************PAGEBREAK************

Tris POV

Over the next few days, she spends most of his time at Four's place, only making trips back to hers to pick up clothes and toiletries. One afternoon, just as she's packing yet another overnight bag, Four stands, hands on hips, and looks around her little apartment.

"Why don't you just move in with me?" he asks. "It seems a bit silly to keep paying for this place when it's not much more than a glorified closet these days. I've got plenty of space."

This should be a big, momentous decision—one she needs to sit down, and take some time to consider. But it doesn't feel like that at all. It feels like the most natural thing in the world.

"Okay," she says. "Let's do it."

And so they do. Just a few days later, her lease is canceled, and her stuff is moved into Four's lovely apartment.

Life is pretty much perfect. She feels content, happy, and settled. She also gets to do something that she was never allowed to do when she was with Peter—have friends. She became fast friends with Christina from work, as well as Zeke's younger brother Uriah. They became the closest of friends as well, Four was slightly jealous at the beginning. Once she told him what a knucklehead he was, that she loved him and only him, wanted him and only him over her, under her, in her, he stopped being a knucklehead.

***************PAGEBREAK**********

Two years later...

Darkness met his eyes when he rolled over and opened them. Four frowned in the shadows and stretched his arm out for his wife, but the bed was empty. He sat up, looking for her when retching came from the bathroom.

"Tris?" he asked as he hurried to get out of bed. When he peeked in the bathroom, she was hunched over the toilet, hugging it tightly, and he rushed to her side. He drew her hair back and rubbed her back as she vomited more before finally stretching her hand up to flush the toilet. "Was it dinner?"

He helped her sit back on the floor by the tub before he grabbed a washcloth, wetted it, and pressed it gently against her face. She was pale but didn't feel feverish.

"Maybe," she muttered. "You don't need to see this. Go back to bed."

His alarm sounded from the bedroom and he grinned. "No need. Time to get up anyway." He sat beside her and she rested her cheek against his shoulder. "I'm not flying out today."

"No, you have that conference," she argued. "We've been planning it for months. I'll be fine. I feel better already."

He eyed her long and hard, and her fake smile fell as she hugged the toilet again. "That's it, I'm not leaving," he grumbled. "I think we should get you to the doctor."

She shook her head in between heaves. "I'm not even puking anything up. It's probably just sinuses or something. I'm fine, promise. And if it is food poisoning, it'll go away in a day or so. I'll take the day off just to be sure."

Four refused to budge from her side and held her hand as she rested her head against the wall, staying by the toilet. "I'm supposed to be gone for a week," he reminded her.

"So if it lasts longer than a day, I promise I'll go to the doctor's," she said.

"Uriah owes me a favor. I'm going to have him stay with you."

"No, don't do that. You'll just get him sick if it's the flu or something," she argued. "I can take care of myself, you know."

He kissed the top of her head with an aggravated sigh. "Don't I know it. I'm still calling him."

"If I don't want you watching me puke, I definitely don't want him to."

Puffing out his cheeks in an effort not to scold her, he held her hands and kissed her knuckles. "It's either Uriah comes and watches you or I don't go at all. Do it for me, please?"

She pursed her lips together but finally gave in. "You're going to call me every day, aren't you?"

He kissed her forehead with a grin. "Twice, if I can manage it. I wish you would change your mind and just come with me."

"Eh, California doesn't really suit me. Besides, I plan on spending quite a bit of time catching up on some reading and watching some tv."

"Then I guess I'll be bringing you a souvenir."

He'd just reached her when her face slackened and she bolted for the bathroom again. "That's it! I'm not leaving, not now." He picked up his cell, ready to tell Jeremy to cancel his flight, when the retching stopped and Tris appeared in the doorway, holding the washcloth to her face.

"Don't you dare. Spouses get sick."

"Yeah, and good husbands stay behind to take care of them."

"It's a big meeting, you said so yourself," she argued, hiding her face behind the cloth. "If I get worse, I promise I will call you right away, okay?"

He ground his teeth but fell under the sway of those stormy eyes, dragging him into the whirlwind of emotions he could no longer ignore. "If you don't, I'll find out." Reluctantly, he finished dressing, watching her as she lay in bed, propped up, and fiddling with the remote for the bedroom TV. Reruns of _Friends_ popped up, and she settled back against the pillows. "I'll land around eleven," he told her as he smoothed her hair back from pale face. "Want anything before I go?"

"My legs still work just fine," she assured him. "But thank you."

"You don't have to thank me. This is what I do," he said roughly. "Uriah will swing by later today once he finishes at the office. It's Monday, so he might be a bit late."

"Go, before you miss your flight," she said and gave him a gentle shove. "I'll be right here when you get back and healthy as a horse."

Four picked up his suitcase near the bedroom door and she blew him a kiss. "Weird, isn't it?"

"A bit, yeah. I got so used to this—to us."

"Just a week," he reassured himself more than her. The pang in his gut said he shouldn't leave. He was not a clingy man, but the idea of being away from Tris for so many nights gnawed at him. He wouldn't fly back until next Monday night.

Only a week. What could possibly go wrong?

******PAGEBREAK**********

Tris POV

"I think you need to go to the doctor," Uriah called to her through the bedroom door on Wednesday morning.

"I'm fine," she argued, flushing the toilet and collapsing against the wall.

"Bullshit. If Four finds out you're lying through your teeth to him, he's going to be pissed."

He was right, but so far, she'd fooled Four, just like she was going to keep fooling him and herself and Uriah because the other option wasn't possible. Granted, two weeks ago, her period was so light it was a joke, and the morning sickness had started a few days before Four had left for his trip. She slipped her hands to her belly, not ready to believe the impossible was happening.

Now, she searched desperately for any other explanation for what was happening to her body. She was tired all the time and nothing sounded good except pickles, peanut butter and banana sandwiches, which completely grossed Uriah out. She was too scared to pee on a stick yet, but eventually, either she would start showing or an actual full-blown period would hit and she would know the truth. Did she risk waiting that long?

"Tris? What's going on in there?"

"You can come in," she said and pressed her head against the wall.

Uriah stepped inside, his cell in hand already. "I texted Four."

"What! You said you wouldn't tell him I wasn't better! Whose side are you on, anyway?"

"Tris, you've been puking since Monday, you're pale and weak, and frankly, a bit cranky," he muttered as she sat on the edge of the tub. "I'm taking you to the doctor because that's what he's going to tell me to do. Get your shoes and coat."

She kept her butt firmly planted on the floor. "No."

"This isn't up for discussion." His cell chirped and he held it out for her to see.

She let out an aggravated sigh at the all caps message from Four saying to drag her to the doctor before he took the first flight out of LA and did it himself. "Can you please tell him to calm down? I'm not sick."

"Bullshit, again."

"Can you put the phone down for a minute while I talk to you? Please?"

He set it down slowly and crossed his arms over his chest. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't throw you over my shoulder right now and take you to the doctor?"

She sucked in a shaky breath, then blew it out as a grin of shock spread across her face. "Because I need you to go the drugstore and buy me something first. Several somethings, actually."

His eyes narrowed. "I'm listening."

"I need to pee on a stick."

Uriah's eyes widened, darting from her face to her belly and back again. "Holy shit," he gasped and clapped a hand over his mouth as he leapt to his feet. "Holy shit! You're pregnant? Oh, God, it all fits! That terrible shit you've been eating and the puking. Tris, that's great!"

"I don't know yet," she said, unable to contain her joy at the idea, though. "It could be a fluke."

"Or you could be pregnant. You have to tell Four," he urged and handed her his phone.

"No, I can't. Not yet."

"Why the hell not?"

She held out her hand and he helped her to her feet. "If I tell him and find out I'm not… it would crush him. I can't do that to him, not with everything he means to me."

He kissed her cheek and guided her back to bed. "Your secret is safe with me. How many do you want?"

"Enough, I guess," she said. "Never thought I'd be doing this."

"Right. Just tuck in and I'll be back as fast as I can." He whistled in awe then waved over his shoulder as he left. "Don't move! And if you want anything else, just text me."

"Thanks, Uriah!"

She thought she heard him yell back and then the penthouse was quiet. _Pregnant._ Could she really be pregnant? Her hands rubbed her belly, imagining a baby growing within her. Four's baby. Tears pricked her eyes because she could be carrying a child for him.

Her cell went off and she picked it up without looking. "Hello?"

"You better be on your way to the hospital," Four nagged.

"I told you I'm not sick. Uriah's panicking over nothing."

"Three days, Tris. You've been sick for three days, and I think you were sick last week too," he argued. "For the love of God, woman, just go, please?"

She opened her mouth to tell him exactly what she was doing about her predicament, but choked them back. "If I'm not better by tomorrow morning, I'll go, I swear it."

"You won't have a choice then. I'm coming home."

"What? No, you're not—you can't!"

"Yes, I damn well can. My wife is sick and refusing treatment. I'm finding the first flight out of LA and I'm coming home."

"Four, wait," she pleaded. "There's a flu going around."

"Since when?" he asked.

She sucked at lying, but maybe she would manage it better over the phone. "Since the last two weeks. Four, I'm already feeling better, honest." She counted out the long seconds of silence.

"You're a terrible liar," he growled.

"How the fuck do you do that?" she whispered, sagging into the pillows.

"Magic." He muttered under his breath. "I will give you one more day."

"If you want to come home early, I won't stop you, but I swear to you, if I get any worse or if anything changes, I will tell you. Do you trust me?"

"That's not even a question," he stated. "Get some rest and text me soon."

"I will. Four?"

"Yeah?"

She worried at her lip before she said, "This bed is too damn empty without you in it."

"Same. Talk to you soon, love," he said and hung up.

Tris set her cell aside and snuggled deeper into the covers. The scent of Four surrounded her and lulled her to sleep. A nap wouldn't be a bad idea, at least until Four returned.

Later that evening, Uriah paced outside the bedroom door, checking his watch for the tenth time. He'd bought four boxes of pregnancy tests, unsure of which kind Tris needed. "Anything yet?" he asked again.

"Will you just give me a minute?" she shouted back sharply.

"Tris, what's wrong?"

He expected her to yell again, but she opened the door a crack and he pushed it open the rest of the way. Her shoulders hunched, she stood at the sinks, leaning over the three sticks lined up in front of her. He waited for her to tell him to wait, but he stepped closer and she stepped slowly aside. Uriah glanced down at them. Each and every single one clearly said exactly what her problem was.

"Tris?"

Her hands fell to her belly and when her gaze lifted to his, she smiled. "I'm pregnant."

"We're happy about this, right?" he asked, resisting the urge to leap forward and hug her.

"I think so, but I have to know for sure, so hold onto your excitement. I'll make an appointment for tomorrow morning at the doctor's office and then I'll know for sure." Her smile faltered, but the look on her face was pure awe. "I can't believe it's true."

"Have a little faith," he told her sternly. "You and Four were just meant to be."

"I guess so. Don't you dare tell him," she added, pointing an accusing finger at him.

"I won't, not until you give me the green light."

Tris nodded slowly and sat down hard on the edge of the tub. "Pregnant. Well, this is definitely a new adventure. Maybe his mom will stop hounding him about grand babies."

"There is that," he agreed. "Want me to get you anything?"

"No. No, I'll be fine. You have to get to the office."

Uriah checked his watch. "I do, but if you need anything, text me or call Zeke. I'll make sure he knows you're under the weather and might need something today."

"Thanks, Uriah," she said and he took her hand. "Thanks for being the friend I never had."

"I'll always be your friend, sweetie, never forget that." He hugged her before he left. Once he was safely outside the penthouse, he let out a loud whoop of excitement. Four would be thrilled if she really were pregnant and could have a baby. He pushed the down button for the elevator and tapped his toe impatiently. He stepped into the elevator as it opened and his cell rang.

"Four, boy, how's it going?" he said happily when he answered.

"What's wrong with her, really?"

"She's got a bug, man, nothing more."

"You're lying too. Why do you both think you can actually lie to me?" he snapped.

"Look, it might not be a bug, but I have been sworn to secrecy." Uriah grimaced. "She's still figuring out a few things."

"That's not making me feel any better. I think this might be one of those days I randomly fire you."

"If it makes you feel better." He laughed.

"I can't stand this. What's wrong with me? I've been freaking out over her since I left."

Uriah rolled his eyes. "You're in love."

************PAGEBREAK*****************

All afternoon, Tris walked aimlessly around the penthouse. She threw away the tests and hid the boxes in the other bathroom so Four wouldn't find them when he came home on Monday. Surprisingly, she felt better, at least physically.

Late in the afternoon, she gave up trying to focus on anything and camped out on the couch, watching a marathon of _The Golden Girls_ for the hell of it, nibbling on saltines and drinking water even though it made her have to pee every ten minutes. She was about to doze off when a key turned in the door and she sat up, expecting to see Uriah checking on her, but his was not the body that stepped through the doorway.

"Four!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing home?"

"So this is what you're hiding from me," he muttered as he dropped his suitcase and kicked the door closed behind him.

Tris gulped as he stalked closer. "I don't know what you're talking about." _Shit! Did Uriah tell him? Please, God, don't let him know yet!_

"You have a fetish for old TV shows, is that it?"

She glanced back at the TV then to him and shrugged one shoulder. "You caught me."

He held her gaze, making his way around the couch until he stood before her. Without a word, he drew her to his body and kissed her fiercely until she melted against him. His tongue delved into her mouth, and Tris forgot everything she was worried about. If she were pregnant, he would love her more for it, and if it was a false positive, then he would still love her.

"Why are you home?" she asked when she came up for air.

"I was worried, and you and Uriah were not making me feel better." He held her face and studied her eyes and body. "You look better. Were you sick today?"

"Nope," she said too quickly. "Really, I think it's sinuses or something—all snot."

His lip twitched, but he didn't let her go. Instead, he scooped her up into his arms and walked to the bedroom. "A bath would do you good."

"A bath, huh? Whatever you say, Dr. Eaton," she teased.

When they reached the bathroom, he set her on her feet and turned the water on hot, poured some bubbles into it, and turned his hungry gaze to her. Tris shivered, his one look telling her exactly what he wanted to do to her before he even touched her. She glanced down at her baggy t-shirt, sweats, and fluffy socks, and regretted dressing for comfort today.

"You think I care about what you're wearing?" he said as he tilted her face back towards his.

"You might not, but I do," she said, tugging at the hem of her t-shirt.

"Don't be. You've been sick and you're comfy. I don't care what you wear, Tris. You're with me and we're together. At the end of the day, that's all that matters."

He kissed her neck languidly and she tugged his dress shirt out of his slacks, craving the touch of his warm, hard body. His lips left her neck long enough to relieve her of her t-shirt, growling deep in his throat to see she wore nothing under it. He rubbed his cheek against her breasts while his hands tugged at the strings holding her sweats up, her breath coming in little bursts as he undressed her so carefully. Her pants slipped down and he helped her step out of them, socks and all, and guided her to the tub. She stepped in and sank below the bubbles, her eyes stuck on him as he unbuttoned his shirt.

"LA was so lonely without you," he informed her as he shrugged his shirt over his massive shoulders and kicked out of his shoes.

"Same here. I think I started talking to the walls."

"You do that already," he said with an arched brow.

"Reciting lines of poetry to find the right words is not talking to the walls," she corrected, speaking slowly. It was hard to focus when his hands undid his pants and he shoved them down his body, revealing every delicious bit of him she wanted to kiss and nibble. She licked her lips at his bobbing erection, wanting to taste him.

He climbed into the tub with her and dragged her back against his chest. "Next time I go out of town, you're coming with me, sick or not. I can't stand being away from you."

Tris rested against his body, comfortable in the cradle of his hips as he shut off the water. "I'm not used to missing someone this much either," she said, sighing when his hands slipped down her wet body. "You're making me dizzy already."

"Good, I want you dizzy," he whispered against her ear. "I want you wet for me, begging for me as much as my body begs for yours."

"My body always wants yours." She lifted her hips and his hand glided easily against her cleft.

His erection swelled against her back, and she wanted him buried inside her. Three days was too long without his touch, but he didn't let her turn around yet. He spread her lips, caressing them before his fingers thrust inside her. Tris groaned, digging her nails hard into his thighs as he worked to stretch her and find that one spot to make her scream his name. His thumb pressed against her clit as his free hand held her breast.

"I can't live without this. Without you, you mean everything to me," He licked her earlobe and sucked hard, teasing her nipple while his fingers ravaged her. Her hips bucked and she lost herself in the sensations pouring over her.

Every nerve was alight with passion. The water lapping over her skin was like a separate touch of his body, as if he was able to touch every inch of her while he brought her to the edge of climax then pulled back before starting over again. He teased her, and all she could do was hold on while he explored her body with such intricate care and detail, there wasn't a single spot he left untouched. Tris shifted back against him and rubbed his cock, but there wasn't a way to get a hold on him.

"Not yet," he growled. "I want to hear you scream first."

"Four," she begged as he stroked her hard and fast beneath the water. "Oh, God! Four!"

"Come for me, Tris. Cry out your release for me."

Her mouth fell open on a moan that built the harder he stroked. Her body twitched with the pleasure shooting through her limbs, his hand not ceasing as it tore every last bit of pleasure from deep within her depths. She shuddered one final time and collapsed against him.

"Not… fair," she muttered and spun around slowly in the large tub.

"I don't play fair, remember?"

"Neither do I." She straddled his lap, and before he could attempt to pull away and torture her more, she gripped his length hard and worked her palms down his swollen erection, rubbing her thumb over the tip. "Now, I want you to come for me."

His hands found her hips and he lifted her enough to thrust into her. Tris wrapped her arms around his neck as he captured her lips, kissing her hard and deep to match his thrusts. The idea of making love while she was pregnant with their child, set her on fire, and she had to be as close to him as possible, telling him without the words that refused to come how much she needed him in her life. He completed her; he was the missing piece she had sought her whole life. The water splashed out of the tub and onto the floor. Her laughter joined his as he made love to her the way a husband did to his wife.

"Four," she tried to say, groaning with each drag out of her body, but she couldn't find the rest of the words. He filled her to the brim with love and fire, stretching her beyond what she ever imagined, and she held on for the ride.

When the orgasm tore through their bodies, he plunged into her one final time, spilling his seed as his hips bucked wildly and she took him all in, quivering from the sharp bursts of pleasure shooting from her sheath to her chest. They would be fine. In that moment, she knew it. No matter what came next, no matter how he took the news of her being pregnant, they would be fine.

**************PAGEBREAK********

Four POV

As they finished their steamy bath, he tucked her hair, curling gently from the water, behind her ears and kissed her as he pulled out. "Damn," he groaned, the aftershock of pleasure catching him off guard.

"Satisfied that there's nothing wrong now?" she asked breathlessly, settling against the other end of the tub.

"For the moment," he grunted. "You would tell me if something was wrong, right?"

She smiled and reached for his hand in the water, holding it to her cheek as she leaned into his palm. "I will always tell you everything. Sometimes, it just might take a little longer, that's all."

"Since I did come home early, I have to swing by the office and check in with Zeke and the two guys I left at the conference."

"I told you not to come home," she said, but the light in her eye said she was glad he did.

"Up for eating tonight?"

"I think I can handle it. Whatever you're in the mood for is fine with me." She closed her eyes and sank deeper into the water. Her hands slipped to her stomach and Four frowned, worried she was feeling sick again and maybe their exertions were too much, but she appeared peaceful.

He pushed through the water for one final kiss, lingering as long as he could before his cell went off and he hung his head against her shoulder. "I'll be back soon."

"I'll be here," she said and squeezed his hand.

Four dried quickly and dressed in fresh clothes. As he checked his casual dress one final time in the mirror, the hair on the back of his neck stood up and an icy hand dragged down his back. He spun around, but Tris was still soaking in the tub and he was alone. A voice whispered at him not to leave, but that was ridiculous. She appeared in good health and he would be back in a few hours. Everything was perfectly fine. He ignored the strange sensation, finished dressing, and squatted by the tub.

"I just have to stop by the office real quick, grab some food, and then I'll be home. _Golden Girls_ marathon?"

"If you're up for it," she agreed with a smirk. "I'm pretty sure I've memorized every ending."

"No spoilers." He kissed her forehead then the top of her head and her lips for good measure. "Right, I'm going then."

"Hurry back."

"For you, love, I always will."

************PAGEBREAK**********

Tris stared at her smiling reflection in the mirror. After Four left, she soaked for a while longer until she was pruney, then got out, wrapped herself up in a towel, and promptly fell asleep lying on the bed.

She didn't sleep long and decided to get up, after slipping on blue jeans and a bulky sweater to be comfy the rest of the night, she decided to set the TV up for when Four returned later, when a knock sounded at the door. She set the remote down and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Four had his keys. They weren't on the table by the front door, and she was pretty sure Uriah wasn't stopping by until later that night.

"Who is it?" she called out.

A high-pitched man's voice replied, "Sorry to bother you, Mrs. Eaton. I'm just dropping off some files Mr. Eaton forgot at the office."

 _Quick, just be quick_ , she told herself. She opened the door, forcing her lips into a smile, until a hand gripped the door hard and a booted foot planted itself in front of it. Shaken as Peter sneered down at her. "No," she whispered. "Peter."

"Honey, I'm home," he growled and forced her back inside.

Gulping, Tris debated her chances of darting around Peter for the door, but she would never make it. He yanked the phone from her hand and threw it in the sink, smashing it to pieces.

"I don't want you calling anyone," he snapped, and she backed away quickly.

"What do you want?" she demanded fiercely. "I don't want to be with you, so just leave me the fuck alone."

His sadistic grin fell at her sharp tongue, and Tris forced herself not to flinch away from his furious glare and the way he reached out and gripped her shoulders hard enough to make her wince. "You do not use that tone with me, Tris. Ever. You are coming with me, right now."

"I'm not going anywhere with you, you fucking ferret-faced bastard!"

He raised his hand and she braced for the hit, but like always, his hand fell to the side, curling into a fist. "Watch your mouth! You are coming home with me, and then you and I are going to have a nice long talk about where we're moving."

"I'm married!" she yelled in his face. "You can't kidnap someone's wife!"

"Why not? You are mine, and he just swooped in and stole you from me! My beautiful Tris?"

If she could stall until then, make him stay here, then Four would arrive and everything would be fine… everything would be just… fine. Her eyes widened when Peter shifted and his jacket moved aside. A handgun was tucked in his belt and her body froze.

"Have I taught you nothing about how important you are to me?" he muttered angrily and released her.

Tris backed away towards the hall. He had a gun. There was nothing stopping him from shooting her—or Four. "Peter, please," she said, her voice shaky. "Just calm down. We… we can talk about this calmly. Work something out."

He ran a hand through his hair, and the sudden blank stare in his eyes chilled her to the bone. "Talk. You think I came all this way to talk? God, how did that man put up with your stupidity this whole time?"

She bristled. "I'm not stupid, but you are if you think I want to spend any more time with you. Just get out. Please, leave before you do something you'll regret."

"The only thing I regret," he raged as he stormed towards her, "was not locking you up when I had the chance! Come here!" He lunged for her, but Tris ducked under his arm and sprinted down the hall, sliding on the floor in her socks. She managed to stay on her feet and slipped into the master bedroom, slamming and locking the door seconds before Peter's body slammed into it full force. The door rattled in the frame. It wouldn't hold for long, and Tris tried to shove the dresser in front of it. "Come on, you bastard," she snarled, bracing her feet against the other wall as she pushed.

But it was too heavy, and with every hit from Peter, the door cracked and threatened to give way. She was trapped with no phone, no way out, and no way to warn Four of what he was walking into. The door slammed open on the next impact, and Tris screamed at the top of her lungs, hoping someone would hear her, when a fist connected with her face. She flew backwards, landing hard on the floor and cringing at the sharp ache in her cheek. Gingerly, she rolled over to her back as Peter towered over her, his chest heaving, eyes wild, and his fist curled at his side.

"You… you made me do that." He stepped closer as she scrambled to get away. "Your perfect face, you ruined it."

She spat at his feet. The weak Tris he knew was gone. Four had helped draw her out and helped show her the woman she could be. "You'll never have me, Peter. Never."

He grabbed the handgun from his belt—a small revolver—and waved it before her. Automatically, her hands slipped to protect her belly and his nostrils flared. "No—no, it can't be. You fucking cheating bitch!"

Tris winced as he yanked her to her feet and shoved the gun into her side. She fought the fear and panic, trying to focus as Four had taught her to do, but the gun at her side made it too hard. All she wanted to do was cry, to let the tears fall and give up. She had fought all her life, and she was so tired. Her life was a nightmare that would never end. He dragged her out of the bedroom when she heard the front door open and keys jingling.

"Tris? I'm back."

Fire coursing through her body, she threw her elbow back into Peter's side and tried to run out of his grasp. "Four!" she managed to scream before it was cut off on a yelp of pain. Peter snatched her by the hair as Four sprinted towards her.

"I'd stop if I were you," Peter warned and pressed the gun against her temple.

Fuming, Four skidded to a stop at the end of the hall, his hands curling and uncurling at his sides and his lips screwed up in a snarl. He slipped one into his pocket, but Peter's hold on her hair jerked her head back and she lost sight of whatever he did. "Let her go," he whispered harshly.

"Why would I do that?" Peter smoothed his hand through Tris' hair and she cringed, wiggling her body to try and break free. She turned her head, and Four's curse as he stomped forward a few more steps told her he'd spotted the mark left by Peter's rage. "Stay where you are or this gets messy."

Four's gaze softened as it shifted to Tris. "Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm fine," she muttered through gritted teeth.

"Everyone will be fine," Peter said happily, "if you let me leave with her."

"You really think I'm going to let you walk away with my wife?" Four's hand brushed against his pocket and his eyes glimmered as he stared intently at Tris.

She frowned. What was he telling her? She squinted at his pocket and realized his cell was in there—had he called the police?

"I came to reclaim my property. Though she might be damaged goods, now, after you infected her with your seed, I'll be able to do as I've wanted with her." He traced his fingers down her face, then lower.

Tris squirmed in his grip, but he lowered the revolver to her stomach and she gasped. "No, don't, please."

"Why not? He put it inside you, now I have to take it out."

Four took a half step closer. "What's he talking about?"

Tris smiled through the tears forming in her eyes. "This is not how I wanted to tell you, but you're going to be a father."

Peter pressed the gun harder against her stomach, and Four flung curses at him to let her go. "Put the damn gun down and step away from my wife and child!"

"This is how this is going to go," Peter informed him calmly as if they were discussing the weather. "You are going to let me walk out of here with _my_ wife, and tomorrow morning first thing, you're going to file for a divorce. The moment it goes through, Tris and I are taking a nice, long trip far away. Maybe to the country… we'll get a nice farmhouse. Someplace I can keep a better eye on you."

Her future flashed before her eyes, being trapped with Peter for the rest of her life, never able to see Four again, never able to hold the miracle baby growing in her belly. No, it wasn't going to end like this. She had to get away from him, get to Four. If he'd called the police and they were listening, they would be here soon, right?

As if on cue, the elevator doors dinged out in the hallway, a sound that echoed through the penthouse since Four had left the door wide open in his rush to get to her. His eyes locked on hers and he nodded. Tris pushed her fear aside, and with a yell, shoved away from Peter, stepping on his instep hard to throw him off balance. Four rushed forward at the same time, stretching his hands out for hers. Everything happened in a blur. Several cops rushed in through the front door and yelled for Peter to drop the gun.

Peter screamed her name as Four quickly curved his body around hers in the hall. "No!"

A shot went off and Four grunted in pain, their bodies hitting the floor hard. More gunfire erupted, but Four tucked Tris' head down, keeping her safe with his body. Then there was silence, a loud thud, and it was over.

"Four?" She shifted in his arms, trying to move him, but he didn't budge. "Four? Damn it, say something! Four!"

Two police officers rushed over and helped drag Four off. He grimaced in pain, and Tris ran her hands up his chest, searching for wounds. He reached up to catch them. "Fine," he muttered. "Perfectly fine…"

"Four!" She held his face hard in her hands. "Open your eyes, Four!"

Her eyes searched his body for any sign of a wound when she spotted the blood on the floor beneath his back. One of officers was already on the radio, calling for an ambulance and the coroner. Another cop rushed over to put pressure on the gunshot wound.

"Is he going to be all right?" she gasped. "Tell me!"

"I can't tell where he was hit," the cop told her. "I'm sorry."

Four's grip on her hands loosened and his eyes slipped closed again. "No, look at me." She kissed his lips hard. "Four, please, you have to be all right, you can't… you can't leave me now."

His lips twitched. "Pocket."

"What?"

"Pocket… coat pocket."

Fumbling with his leather coat and cursing vividly under her breath until he laughed with a wince, she found a small box and pulled it out. "This? What is it?"

He squinted one eye open. "Yours…"

Confused, she flipped the box open to find a sparkling single ruby stone set on a band of white gold. It was shaped in a circle, the band twisting around it. "A ring?" He nodded stiffly. "You got me a ring… what… why?"

"Simple, I love you."

"Four, please. You have to open your eyes. You're going to be a father and I can't… I can't do this without you, okay? I can't have this baby without you, I can't."

The cops close by whispered under their breath, but what they said, she didn't understand or care. She only had eyes for Four, could only listen to his ragged breathing.

"I didn't think I could love until you came into my life." She smoothed his hair back from his face, tracing his scar. "You taught me what it meant, you saved me, and it's not fair… it's not fair for you to just go out like this so you have to make it. Please, God, you have to make it."

His hand raised slowly, cupping her cheek as his lips curled into a smile.

The paramedics arrived and she was pulled to her feet and out of the way as they loaded him on the stretcher. The police said they needed her statement as the paramedics checked the wound on her face. Her eyes shot to Peter's body, and words failed her as she swallowed hard. He was dead. They covered his body and she blinked a hard few times before quietly telling them she was pregnant, and the second set of paramedics escorted her to another ambulance to get her checked out as well. Numb, she let them direct her where to go and told the police weakly what had happened. There were questions and she thought she answered them, but her only care was for Four and seeing him open those blue eyes again.

She was walking towards the ambulance when the events of the last twenty minutes took their toll and the world went dark.

********PAGEBREAK**********

He floated in a world of shadows and voices whispering to him. Four cringed as bright lights flashed overhead before disappearing. Beeping… so much beeping, and then silence. He thought he heard crying—Tris, maybe? He thought he'd reached for her, swore she'd gripped his hand, but there was nothing there.

How long he was out, he wasn't sure, but when he attempted to open his eyes, pain flooded his body and he winced against the light filling the room. It was dim but still hurt, and he tried to turn away from it, grimacing at the pain ricocheting up his back.

"Careful, Mr. Eaton, you'll rip your stitches," a man said and two hands eased his shoulders gently back. "How are you feeling?"

Four blinked to clear his vision so he could see a young man's face staring down at him quizzically. "Feeling? Pain… does that count, doc? Hell, are you even old enough to be a doctor?"

The man laughed. "Afraid so. Dr. Jones. I've been out of school two years now."

"Two years, great. So I should expect to be dead soon." Four grunted and tried to sit up, but Dr. Jones forced him back down again. "I have to get up."

"Do you remember what happened?"

Four sank against the pillow and shut his eyes tight. What had happened? He had gone out to the office then to get dinner for him and Tris… came back and… and… "Tris! Where is she? Is she all right?"

"Your wife is just fine," Dr. Jones said and putting a finger to his lips, nodded towards the chair in the corner where Tris was asleep. "She and the baby are doing well."

"Baby?" That's right, she was pregnant with their baby. He laughed in disbelief. "The penthouse and that man… he shot me."

"He did, but lucky for you, he missed any major organs. You lost a decent amount of blood, but you'll recover soon enough. From what the police told me, you saved your wife's life. That bullet would've hit her and probably killed her and your baby." He patted Four on the shoulder as tears welled in the large man's eyes. "They're safe, Four. You all are."

He wiped his eyes quickly and muttered a gruff thanks to the young doctor. "And the man who attacked us?"

Dr. Jones' eyes fell and he shuffled his feet as he set Four's chart back at the foot of his bed. "Shot dead by the police once they arrived. Rest, Mr. Eaton, I'll have a nurse check on you again in a few hours."

The doctor left, and Four watched Tris sleeping, curled up in the chair across the room. Her head rested on her arms, she'd kicked her shoes off, and from this angle, he could see the black eye where that bastard had clocked her. Four's hands fisted in the sheets, ready to bring Peter back to life and pummel him right back into death with his own hands. His back throbbed, but he pushed the pain aside. If anything happened to Tris or their baby, he wouldn't be able to live with himself, probably wouldn't be able to live at all. She was his world now, and all he had in his life that he cared for. He pushed himself up in the bed, and the change in angle gave him a view of something red and glittering on Tris' finger.

Unable to stay away from her any longer, he gritted his teeth and swung his legs over the side of the bed. His weak legs gave out when his feet hit the floor, and he cursed, falling into the wall with a loud thud.

"Four? Jesus, what the fuck are you doing?" Tris snapped as she rushed to his side. "Get your ass back in bed right now."

He sat down hard on the bed but wrapped his arms around, holding her close and breathing her in. "Thank God you're all right," he muttered roughly, tears pricking his eyes again. He held the back of her head, kissing her forehead as she clung to him in turn.

"I'm fine," she whispered. "We're… we're both fine, but you have to lay back. You were shot, remember?"

He did as she ordered, chuckling at her fierceness. She sat on the bed beside him, holding his hand and smiling at him, but the longer they stared, the worse the pain in her eyes became before she collapsed against his chest, sobbing against him.

"This is all my fault. I'm sorry," she wailed. "You never would've been shot if I hadn't… if..."

Four hushed her and dragged her against his body so he could hold her in his lap. She was so small, and he cradled her securely, wiping the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs. "Tris, don't you dare apologize."

"You were shot, Four. It's my fault."

"No, it's that dead bastard's fault. He tried to destroy your life and he failed. If I had to do it all again, I would," he said forcefully. "I do not regret a moment of our time together, do you understand me?"

"But—"

"No," he growled and crushed his mouth against hers, needing to taste her lips and know she was really there and this was going to be his future. The kiss deepened until he tried to move and his stitches tugged. He hissed. "Damn."

"I guess we should hold off on a proper reunion," she mused and kissed his nose.

"Afraid so. Tris, it's over, really over. You're free now."

Smiling softly, she took his hand and settled it on her stomach. "You ready for this, too?"

Four hated how his eyes grew blurry again, but he couldn't help it. His love for this woman and the babe growing in her belly was too much. "I never thought I'd actually find a woman I loved before you, never imagined actually have a child. Now, I have everything I could ever ask for."

"Good, because you're stuck with us both for a very, very long time."

She settled against his chest as he closed his eyes, resting his cheek on the top of her head. "God, I hope so."

*********Epilogue**********

Over the years Four and Tris enjoyed life, love and their family. They had two children who were currently upstairs in their bed waiting on Santa. It was Christmas Eve and Four was putting the finishing touches on their presents for their children's presents from Santa.

"You really went all out with Christmas this year," Tris said as she walked up to her own Santa in a red suit.

"Well, I tried to convince you to wear a Mrs. Claus, but no, you wouldn't," Four said as he put his hands on his wife's waist.

"Why, Santa whatever are you up to?" Tris asked. Four only pointed up above their heads where a sprig of mistletoe was.

"With you? Everything," Four said as he leaned in to kiss his wife.

What they didn't know was their little ones were still awake and watching from the door way. "See, I told you I saw Mama kissing Santa Claus." Thea said to her older brother.

"I'm going to tell Daddy," Theo said.

"Tattle tale," Thea said as she hit her brother.

"Ow!" Theo said.

"Theo! Thea!" Tris yelled out as the kids raced upstairs.

"You think they saw me?" Four asked.

"If they did, I'll come up with something," Tris said.

"Tris?" Four called out for her.

"Yes," Tris said.

"When you're done, will you do something with me?" Four asked.

Tris smirked and said, "Always. Now you finish up and get in bed, because Santa Claus is coming tonight."

The End.


End file.
